


Spider Silk- Supernatural Spider-Man AU

by PagesInAChapter



Series: Superspider [1]
Category: Marvel, Supernatural
Genre: AU, Completed, Destiel - Freeform, Fluff, M/M, Spider-Man - Freeform, Supernatural - Freeform, spider-man au, spiderverse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2019-04-16
Packaged: 2019-09-19 20:34:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 31
Words: 33,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17008737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PagesInAChapter/pseuds/PagesInAChapter
Summary: Dean Winchester has a good life. He's young, he's content, he's happy in his apartment with Uncle Bobby and his little brother Sam. He works for the local newspaper, running a column on local supernatural sightings and legends. It doesn't pay well, but it's enough to get by. Besides, not as if he has anything he's saving up for. Life's good.And then new boy Cas-And then a weird, glowing spider-And then Bobby-And suddenly Dean's world is turned on its head. No more easy life. Now it's time to protect those he loves most from a threat far greater than he could have imagined...





	1. Hello, Dean

Dean slammed the door of his car. It was a new car, yet the bumper was already dented. That was karma for letting Bobby use it to teach Sam to drive. In Dean's opinion, a boy barely on his learner's license should not be using a Chevy Impala as a practice car. Oh well. It gave the car a little character, and he'd gotten all his irritation over it out the way last week.

Sam was sitting in front of the door to the apartment, resting his chin on his fist. "Rough day, Dean?" 

"What makes you say that?" Dean murmured. He stepped over Sam, deliberately kicking him lightly in the knee as he fumbled for his keys. "Why are you just sitting out here? Don't you have homework?"

"Locked the keys inside the house, and I can't exactly go through the window. We're on the fourth floor." He sprang to his feet as Dean shouldered the door open roughly. They really needed to get it fixed, but nobody had the time.

"Where's Bobby?"

"I dunno." Sam dragged his bag over to the coffee table and started setting up his books and pencils, very obviously procrastinating his work. "He might be at the store, I know we're out of milk."

Dean sat down next to his brother and flicked through the maths homework, one eyebrow raised. "We're always out of milk, and it's always your fault."

He did not see the Legal Studies coming, but the next thing he knew, he was sprawled facedown on the carpet with Sam beating him over the head with his schoolbook. Dean hissed and reached out, struggling. His fingers brushed against the corner of a couch cushion, and he slammed it against Sam's face so hard that his he'd snapped around like he'd been slapped.

The door slammed shut. "Hey!" Bobby admonished. "I did not raise you two this way."

The brothers paused, before Sam snatched the pillow away from Dean and threw it at Bobby. "Yes you did."

Bobby easily dodged the cushion and set the bag of groceries down on the rickety dining table. He was used to this. It was fine, as long as they didn't break anything. They hadn't broken anything, had they?

"Rough day, Dean?"

"Why does everyone keep asking that?" Dean asked aloud. He had had a rough day, admittedly, but it wasn't the business of Bobby and Sam. He could handle it just fine. No need to dump his trivial problems on them-

"What happened?"

"Oh, Gabriel quit. Massive spectacle, he set fire to the curtains and microwaved a salmon before he left."

"Always loved that guy." Sam mused, wandering over to rifle through the shopping bag in search of good food. "So who's moving in as his replacement?"

"No idea. Don't think anyone has the photography skills he had." 

"Hm." Bobby reached over to ruffle Dean's hair reassuringly. "Just because you ain't coworkers anymore doesn't mean you can't still be friends." 

"No, he said he was going to leave the city and go look after his dad. Which is... shockingly nice." Dean frowned. "I doubt that's what he's doing."

"You got duped, dude. He's probably off to cause chaos." Sam's words were muffled. He was chewing on a pencil, staring intensely at a particular maths question he was having difficulty with. Dean poured himself a glass of water and sat beside him on the couch, reading over the problem.

"I'm sure his replacement will be just as much of a nuisance." Bobby said. Whether this was meant to be reassurance or an insult, Dean couldn't tell.

Sam sighed and slammed down his pens, scattering them across the table and sending them rolling across the carpet. "I'm done with this. I'm done with maths."

"Thought you liked maths."

"Yeah, usually, but we have a new teacher. Mr MacLeod. I swear, he does not even have a teaching degree. He is that bad."

Dean winced in sympathy.

Homework forgotten, Sam tucked his legs under him and turned to face Dean expectantly. "Tell me what article you're working on."

"No." Dean turned the pages of Sam's maths book, his brow furrowing. This really was some nonsense if he'd ever encountered any. Perhaps they should put in a complaint with the school.

"Come on Dean. Please? Come on."

"Share it, Dean, he won't stop if you don't." Bobby called from the kitchen. Dean sighed. 

"Alright, fine. You know that abandoned lot four blocks away? Not the one with the murders. The one with the explosion."

"Yeah?"

Dean leaned in, as though he were about to share a great secret. "Well, legend has it, there's a demon in there trying to get back to hell."

Sam and Bobby were silent for a moment. Neither looked impressed. Finally, Sam spoke. "You could have delivered that so much easier. Observe."

Sam leaped off the couch and crouched behind it, hiding his face like a dramatic storyteller from a bad movie. "They say the building was destroyed because of the demons. The demons that live beneath us. Now, they say the demons have one goal in mind, but it is not sinister: They only wish to go home."

"I am so glad you decided to study law and not acting."

The two resumed their pillow/book/wrestling match and Bobby rolled his eyes affectionately. He'd never expected to have these two land in his lap, an angry twelve year old and a scruffy eight year old, but he was glad it happened. However, he wouldn't mind if Dean found an apartment of his own, maybe not too far away. He was getting a little tired of the constant scuffles and arguments over which shirt belonged to who.

"Dean, your lights are on."

"Huh?" Dean paused, midway through the act of pushing Sam off the back of the couch.

Bobby squinted, leaning closer to the window. Yeah, he could definitely see it. The black Impala, headlights on and flickering in the afternoon sun. "The headlights, Dean, of your car. They must've been on since lat night."

Dean swore, shoved Sam off the couch, leaped over his fallen body and sprinted down the stairs, leaving the door to swing on its hinges behind him with a groan of metal on metal. He took the steps two at a time, sliding down the banister when he built up enough momentum, and raced for the doors. Closed. He would have to top to open them unless–

Unless, of course, a young man with ruffled black hair and a long tan coat shoved open the door at the exact same moment, dragging a large black suitcase behind him.

Too late to stop without tripping himself up. All Dean could do was shout a warning, look into those startled blue eyes with a sense of dread, and collide with such force that the pair were knocked off their feet and thrown into the glass door with enough force to make it shudder in its panes.


	2. Part Of The Family

Something was ringing. A phone, or Dean's ears? Both were equally likely.

Dean groaned softly and blinked, hard. Slowly, slowly, he became aware of his surroundings. The tiled floor under his outstretched arms. The throbbing pain in his chin. And, just a short distance away, a young man slumped against the glass door and rubbing his head, teeth exposed in a grimace of pain. 

Focusing hurt. It hurt a whole lot. Was there blood? Had he knocked a tooth loose? Dean passed his tongue around his mouth, testing each tooth to make sure nothing was broken. No, he was fine. More or less. There would definitely be a bruise on his chin tomorrow that Sam would probably tease him about.

The pained hiss of the other man drew Dean's attention once again. The contents of the suitcase was strewn out around them. Oops. Dean rolled over slowly and pushed himself up on his hands and knees, crawling towards the dazed man. "S- Sorry." He hissed, holding out a hand. "I'm Dean."

"Cas." The two shook hands and staggered to their feet, picking up the clothes and knick-knacks with movements punctuated by yelps of pain.

"That's okay, Bunkerhouse." Dean said loudly, to the residents milling about aimlessly. "It's fine. We don't need your help."

Once everything was scraped together, Cas and Dean headed for the elevator in limps and hops, laughing about the incident. The elevator, however broken and terrible it was, was a much better option given the circumstances– the suitcase, Dean's leg, Cas's forehead. All it took was a punch to the control panel and kick to the walls when it stalled, and they were off.

"Which floor?" Dean asked conversationally. 

"Fourth." Cas's shoulders were hunched. His eyes darted around the elevator, taking in every inch of it. He seemed very... clean. Too much so for a dump like this. What was a pretty boy like him doing in here? Wait. Did he say fourth?

"No kidding? Never seen you around before."

"Wait, we're on the same floor?" Cas relaxed, seemingly glad that he had someone as a guide. "I just moved in. Number twelve."

"Thirteen!" This was ridiculous. Insanity. Dean loved it. The elevator screeched to a halt on the fourth floor, and Dean jammed his fingers in the doors to wrench them open.

"You're next door! Great! My brother Gabriel recommended this place to me." Cas stepped out after Dean and brushed his fingers across the peeling wallpaper.

"Gabriel's your brother?"

"Are you... Dean Winchester?"

The conversation continued, full of surprises and delighted, bemused exclamations, until they reached the door of number twelve. Dean paused and glanced at his own front door. "Hey, ditch your stuff. Come meet my family."

"What, really?" Cas blinked, but his face quickly split into a wide smile as he forced the door open and lay his suitcase in the entryway. "Alright, why not? Gotta get to know the neighbours eventually, right?"

They strolled into Dean's apartment, limps and bruises and all, startling Sam who was doing pushups on the carpet. He looked up quizzically, dark hair falling into his face. "Hi, strange man that Dean's brought home."

Cas raised a hand in a quick half wave. "Hi."

"Sammy, this is Cas. Cas, Sammy. Cas is Gabriel's brother and just moved in next door."

"Woah, no way!" Sam hopped up and darted over to shake Cas's hand. "Welcome to the Bunkerhouse, it's gross and broken but it's pretty damn good anyway!"

"Sam idolised your brother, I think." Dean explained, noting Cas's startled, bewildered expression.

"He was pretty awesome." Sam agreed. "Do you have a camera? Are you taking over for him?"

"Yeah, he taught me how to do photography." Cas looked thoughtful. "I wasn't planning on taking over, but...."

"You gotta earn a living somehow." Bobby leaned out of the kitchen. "Hi, Cas. Bobby Singer, Sam and Dean's uncle. Why don'tcha stay for dinner?"

They shook hands, and Cas laughed. He had a nice laugh. "Sure. I don't know quite how to work the stove properly, I'm afraid. Or what remains of the stove...."

Sam punched the air and let out a cheer. "Crappy housing!"

Bobby disappeared back into the kitchen with a laugh. A second later; "Dean, your lights are on."

"My what?"

"Your lights, Dean. Your car headlights, they're still on."

Dean's face burned scarlet and he swore, bolting out of the room. After all that drama and very literal pain, he hadn't even reached his car! 

The instant Dean was out the door, Cas seemed to shrink. His shoulders hunched. A blush spread slowly up his cheeks. The poor man didn't seem to know what to do, or where to go, or what to say. It would have been funny, if it hadn't been so pitiful. Sam vaulted over the back of the couch and opened his books.

"Cas, you any good with maths?"

Hesitantly, Cas perched on the arm of the couch. "I... don't know. It's been a long time since I've done it."

The pair set to work figuring out Sam's homework. Cas didn't seem to be able to do much of it, but that was okay. It was easier for Sam to learn the concepts through teaching someone else anyway. 

By the time Dean came back, Cas and Sam were sitting side by side on the couch, heads bent together as they muttered quietly. Dean barely noticed. He had something else on his mind, and that something came in the form of a pretty blonde woman with an air of confidence. Despite it being his own apartment, Dean rapped his knuckles against the doorframe to announce his presence.

"I found Jo outside, can we keep her?" He asked loudly.

"If Dean gets to have both Cas and Jo over, I want to invite Jess." Sam said immediately.

"You're not inviting Jess." Bobby said sharply. "Jo, great to see you as always, of course you can stay for dinner."

While Sam muttered at the unfairness of it all, Dean beckoned Cas over and sat him down at the dining table next to Jo. "Jo, this is Cas. Cas, this is Jo, my best friend of seventeen years."

"Good to meet someone with a little sanity." Jo observed Cas's outstretched for a moment before giving him a high–five. "Are you the new neighbour Dean was telling me about on the way up here? Trust me, after a couple months of these three, you'll be looking for a new building."

"Stop scaring him off." Dean cuffed her lightly over the head and Jo immediately turned, mocking a blow to the jaw. Laughing, Dean ducked the swing. "Too late! Cas already hit me there."

"Did he now? We'll get along great." Jo gave Cas another high–five and a grunt of approval. Cas just looked bewildered. 

"Sam, come get some dinner." Bobby came out of the kitchen, his arms decorated in plates of food like a waiters'. "It would be great," He began slowly, "if the three adults in this house could help serve dinner."

Cas immediately sprang to his feet, only to be tugged back down by Dean. "Ignore him, he's kidding."

"No I am not, you lazy son of a bitch." There was warmth in Bobby's voice. Cas sat back down, glancing at Jo warily. When he'd woken up this morning in Gabriel's abandoned house, a note on the fridge telling him an apartment had been rented out for him and to move immediately, he hadn't exactly expected this. Of course, he hadn't expected a lot from a run–down old building with B-NKER--USE written in flickering neon lights on the front.

He'd expected cockroaches. He'd expected fast food meals and pipes that leaked.

He hadn't expected to find himself sitting at a table with a plate of steaming chicken in front f him, listening to a family, a real, ordinary family, talk and laugh around him. It was nice. It was safe. Cas smiled, a quiet, soft smile, and dug into his food.


	3. Ruby Red

"Hands out of your pockets, man." Dean elbowed Cas in the side. "You're going to a job interview, not a prom."

Cas straightened up quickly and smoothed down his shirt. He looked nervous. Understandably so; Gabriel's reputation had been placed on his shoulders. Half the journalists in the room were glaring. The other half were staring in awe.

Dean spun Cas around and gripped his shoulders, hard. "Now, listen. You have me and Gabe and Jo is references. You have experience in photography. I have to go out with Jo and Ruby to investigate the abandoned building where the murders happened. Bobby's coming to pick me up at the site at four, and then we'll swing by and get you."

"I thought you were investigating the explosion site?" Cas asked quizzically. There was dirt on his chin. Dean licked his finger and absently rubbed it off.

"I was, but they have policemen stationed there now, and I don't need a second lawsuit. Looking forward to working with you Cas."

"Same here." Cas said faintly. 

Less than ten minutes later, Dean, Jo, and Ruby were creeping through the dark, cobwebbed building. All three had torches, and the beams flickered over abandoned furniture and mould growing on the walls. None of them spoke. Somehow, any noise seemed like an invitation for danger.

"Ew." Ruby commented as her light touched on the head of a dead mouse. Dean and Jo made muttering noises of agreement and moved on, quickly.

"Are you making notes, Dean?" Jo whispered.

"Sure am." Dean shone his torch beam onto his notebook, which simply had 'JO IS THE MURDERER-GHOST WE'RE LOOKING FOR' taking up the entire page. "Are you taking photos?"

"Sure am." Jo turned her camera on Dean's startled face. The click seemed to echo, piercing the muffled silence of the house.

Ruby whirled on them. "Could you two be quiet?" She hissed. "We're not meant to be here."

"We're ghost hunting journalists, Rubes." Jo said. "We're never meant to be where we are, and yet."

"And yet, that door was closed just a second ago." Dean noted, watching the door to the laundry room swing gently, silently on its hinges. Immediately, Jo took a photo and darted over, running her fingers along the edges.

"You'd expect there to be dust, or rust on the hinges. This door looks new."

"We're not real journalists, we're fictional writers. Make up a supernatural explanation for it and move on." Ruby snapped. "If someone's coming in here and replacing doors, it's not our business."

She stormed off in a huff, climbing the rickety staircase and vanishing onto the next floor. Dean and Jo exchanged a look, frowning. Ruby was a little bit snippy at the best of times, but she was especially snippy today. Was she scared? Probably.

Jo made a start for the stairs. "Should we follow her?"

"Murders happened in the foyer, and ghosts were seen at the front door. Well, people leaving the building without going in in the first place, I mean. I think we should leave her to it."

Dean cleared a moth-eaten couch of dust and sat down, not overly worried about what might happen with his clothes. This was a job in which dirt was a major part. As Jo wandered the room, snapping photos of various pieces of proof of the supernatural, Dean kicked his feet up and set to writing notes and observations that he could turn into a story later. The room was covered in cobwebs and dust. Place still smelled of blood. Dust and darkness choked the daylight and kept the building in the dark. The ghosts of the murderer and his twenty–seven victims had be sighted around and inside the building, and on some nights, screaming came from within.

He'd have to interview those who witnessed the ghosts and the screaming later. Having their quotes on the story would greatly improve it, in his own opinion. "Hey, Jo, do you think you'd come and interview–"

"Sh." Jo held up one hand. Her eyes were gleaming in the dark, head cocked to one side. "Hear that?"

Dean was silent. If he was still, he could hear voices coming from upstairs. Jo signalled to the stairs and Dean nodded, dropping from the couch and padding silently across the floorboards to join Jo at the base. She reached out for his hand, and he squeezed her fingers reassuringly. As Ruby had so eloquently put it, they weren't real journalists. They were rarely put in dangerous situations.

They stuck as close to the walls as the stairs allowed, climbing as silently and carefully as they could. Breathing was difficult. Someone had disturbed the dust, and now it hung in the air like a cloud. Dean stifled a cough and planted his hand against the wall.

There was no way he could stifle his yelp of pain. The torch beam only just caught the tail end of a strange blueish spider as it scuttled between two slats in the wall, disappearing from sight.

Jo whirled on him, her mouth open in horror. "What are you doing?!"

"A spider bit me!" Dean hissed. "Wait, shut up, did they hear us?"

The pair fell silent, listening intently. No voices. The sound of footsteps on the floorboards. A strange sha-shunk noise that sounded familiar, something Dean could recognise from years of action movies. He held his breath.

The stairway lit up in gunfire, deafening blasts that knocked Jo and Dean off their feet. Dean screamed, a horrible sound that grated at the back of his throat, and grappled for Jo's hand. "Come on! Come on!"

Jo was frozen. Her eyes were wide, staring at the smoking holes in the walls. No time. No time for this. The sound of the guns being prepared was loud, cutting through the ringing in Dean's ears. Whoever was there was not worried about subtlety anymore. No time! Dean grabbed Jo and swung her into his arms in a bridal carry, half sprinting, half falling down the stairs as the gunfire started up again, peppering the ground and walls around him.

He tripped on the last stair and slammed against the ground, smacking his shoulder, his head. Jo rolled away, but the impact seemed to have snapped her out of the trance. She shrieked, her cries incomprehensible as she crawled to Dean's side and shook him, hard. "We have to go, we have to go! Ruby! Ruby, where are you?!"

"Down there, finish them!" Someone from upstairs shouted.

Nope. Dean leaped to his feet and clung to Jo, half dragging her to the door. "Out, out, out!" Ruby was a strong girl. She could take care of herself. She was fine. At least, that's what Dean told himself.

They burst out into the sunlight. Dean staggered, blinded, but Jo kept tugging him along frantically. She pointed at a rusty blue Chevy in the street. "Bobby! Bobby! Help!"

"What the hell's happening?" Bobby shouted. "Jo, you're bleeding. Get in. Where's Ruby?"

Dean shoved Jo into the backseat and slammed the door after him. "No time! Go! Go!"

Bobby revved the engine and took off down the street without asking questions. He knew when something was important.

The car rocked abruptly and Bobby swore, fighting with the wheel. "What the hell was that now?! What did you two do?!"

Two black boots slammed themselves down on the bonnet of the car and Bobby swore again, blinded. The gunman knelt, seemingly unconcerned by the car's speed, and regarded the occupants of the car emotionlessly. His eyes, peering through the eye sockets of a skull mask, narrowed as he pushed his gun against the windshield. Dean and Jo screamed. Bobby snarled in anger and terror, craning his neck to see past the man's flapping black cloak.

Although, as it turned out, while the gunman was not worried about speed, he was worried about the buildings. Bobby, trying hard to drive despite a man perched on the bonnet of the car, simply wrenched the wheel in an attempt to throw him off. The gunman planted his hand against the windshield, glanced over his shoulder, and sprang.

The car hit the wall and folded, smashing through the bricks, crumpling with the excess kinetic energy.

The screams stopped abruptly as Dean's head smacked against the back of the passenger seat, sending a burst of stars behind his eyes and a wave of darkness to rush through his mind and drag him down.


	4. Hospital Anxiety

Bright spots flickered in Dean's vision. He groaned and turned his head, struggling to sit up, struggling to even open open his eyes. There was no way he was doing this for the second time that week. Where was Cas? Sitting against the window with a bruise above his eyebrow?

"Dean! Dean!" Voices. Muffled, fuzzy voices. Sam's muffled, fuzzy voice. "He's waking up! Cas, he's waking up!"

Sam. Cas. Car accident. Gunshots. Car accident. Brick wall. Bobby. Jo. Ruby.

Dean forced his eyes to open and immediately winced against the fluorescent lights. "Where... am I?" His voice was wrong. Groggy. He was slurring his words. That wasn't good.

Slowly, slowly, the two faces leaning over him came into focus. Cas, his hair a mess and eyes wide. Sam, face pale and eyes rimmed in red as though he'd been crying. It was likely that he had been, if what Dean had pieced together in his mind was correct. Bright lights, car accident, crying family. They were in a hospital, weren't they? It shouldn't have taken that long to figure it out. Dean must not be fully awake yet.

"Dean, hey! Focus!"

"Sam, he has a concussion, give him a break."

"We've known you for a week! Why are you even in here?!"

Gotta make them stop arguing. Dean grunted and propped himself up on his elbows. Even that slight movement made his head swim. "Guys. Where's...?"

"Where's who?" Cas asked, but Dean had already spotted Jo in the bed opposite. There was a tube snaking out of her arm, and an oxygen mask over her sleeping face. Any part of her skin that Dean could see was mottled blue and black, or covered in bandages. Tears sprang to his eyes.

Cas reached over to brush them away with the pad of his thumb. "Hey, hey, none of that." He said firmly.

Pressure against Dean's arm alerted him to Sam's presence as he clambered up onto the bed and cuddled himself against Dean, trying hard not to lean on any injuries. "I'm sorry, Dean." He whispered hoarsely. "I drove your car to pick up Cas and get here."

"Doesn't matter."

"Put another dent in it. And a speeding ticket."

Dean hesitated and leaned his cheek against the top of Sam's hair. "Don't care. Where's.... Bobby? And Ruby?"

A sound. A new sound. Sam shuddered against Dean's side, wracked by sobs he was trying hard to fight. Cas perched on the edge of the bed, hovering his hand over Dean as though he didn't quite know where to put it. After a moment he settled his hands in his lap and sighed.

"They... Dean, they found Ruby in an alleyway next to the building. She...." Here, Cas paused as though warring with himself. "She fell from the sixth floor and died on impact. I'm so sorry."

Dean couldn't look at him. Instead he looked past Cas's worried face, to focus on Jo. She was breathing. That was good. He didn't know what he'd do with himself without her.

"And... Bobby?"

Nobody told Dean where Bobby was. They called in the doctors and nurses, had Dean checked over, put him in a wheelchair so he could move around properly. Only after constant nagging and threats were promises made to take Dean to see Bobby, to say goodbye. That's what they said. Let Dean say goodbye to Bobby. They said a lot. They said Bobby was in pain. They were saying that he was dying slowly, and even if he lived he would be braindead. They said it might give Dean closure.

Cas wheeled Dean, with Sam on his lap, to Bobby's private room. He was covered in so many tubes and drips and wires that Dean didn't know what to do, where he could put his hands. So he just sat there, chewing his lip anxiously. "Bobby? Hey."

Sam started crying again and shifted, burying his face into Dean's hospital gown and returning the blood flow to Dean's legs so quickly that Dean began to tremble. He reached out, holding Bobby's hand in his own heavily bandaged ones. "Bobby, please. Please."

Bobby's eyes flickered open, glassy and unfocused. His fingers twitched, curling over Dean's. Something fluttered in Dean's chest. Hope? Love? Terror? He nudged Sam roughly and wheeled himself forward to put his face on Bobby's shoulder. "Bobby..."

The heart monitor beeped. Bobby's fingers flexed, and curled into a fist in Dean's palm. 

_Beep._ Sam's crying reached a new level. He leaned forward, trying to find some way to hug Bobby.

_Beep._ Bobby's lips curved into a small smile. He wanted to speak. He wanted to say something, something important.

The heart monitor skipped a beat. Then another. Another. Bobby's eyes shut and he turned his face away.

The wail of the flatline. The bustling, shouting doctors dressed in scrubs and gloves. Sam, screaming, fighting like a four year old to get to Bobby. Cas, pulling Sam away and grabbing for the handles of Dean's wheelchair. 

A nurse touched Dean's shoulder lightly. "I'm so sorry. Is there anyone we could call? Any relatives?"

No. It was just Sam and Dean now. Dean couldn't get the words out. He choked on them, pulled his knees up to his chest, and numbed out the pain.

Sam and Cas weren't allowed to stay. The doctors said that Dean needed to rest, and to do that he had to be left alone through the night. Could Sam be left alone? No. Was Cas willing, or able, to babysit? Yes. They'd look after each other until Dean got back.

While he made a big deal over saying goodbye and crying and promising it wouldn't be long, Dean was glad. He needed a break. He just needed some time to... to process this.

Night fell on the silent hospital. Dean, of course, couldn't sleep. Every nerve in his body was on fire. It was as if he was being electrocuted. His joints hurt. The stitches across his ribs were itching like crazy. And through it all, the face of the man in the skull mask hovered behind Dean's eyes.

He kept replaying the moment. The man in the skull mask had managed to jump onto the roof of a moving car, then hop down onto the bonnet without being so much as buffeted by the wind. He'd intended to shoot them through the window, presumably one by one. And his eyes.... cold, grey, dead. Dead eyes. The eyes of a monster. The eyes of Bobby's killer.

Dean shuddered and rolled out of bed, hobbling for the wheelchair. He couldn't stay here. He needed to talk to someone.

Jo was still asleep. The doctors had put her in a medically induced coma while she healed- her injuries were a lot worse than Dean's. Dean wheeled himself to her side and simply sat there, resting his head against her arm. "I don't know what I'm gonna do, Jo." His voice cracked. "I just don't know."


	5. Defenestration

Someone was knocking, nay, pounding at the door. Furiously. Dean groaned, rolling out of bed with a wave of nausea that made him double over. He tucked the crutches under his arms, hopping towards the door. "I've already talked to the police! Every day this week! Go away!"

He wrenched the door open on the startled faces of Jo and Ellen Harvelle. "Oh. Hi."

"Hey, Dean." Jo said shyly. Ellen just reached out and pulled Dean into a hug, stroking his hair as if he were a toddler still. Fighting it wasn't even an option; Dean simply melted against her. It was like having a mother again. He missed his own, always, but Ellen was nice to have around.

"Oh, Dean, I'm so sorry." Ellen pushed him away at arms' length to give him a once-over. "How are you holding up? How's Sam?"

"I'm fine. Not well, flu going around. Sam.... hasn't spoken to me yet."

"It's been a week. How can he ignore you for a full week?" The Harvelles pushed past Dean to get inside. Jo immediately collapsed on the couch with a groan, massaging her side with her good hand.

Ellen made a beeline for the kitchen, her nose wrinkling in distaste. "Have you boys cleaned up at all?"

"No? I've been busy." Dean sat on the couch beside Jo and started stroking her hair, pressing a hand over his stomach. "Y'know, funeral plans. Throwing up. Drinking."

"I think the drinking and the throwing up may be connected." Jo moaned, voice muffled due to her face being pressed into the couch cushions.

Dean shook his head. "Jo, Jo, Jo. No. The throwing up is because I have the flu. The drinking is because I am grieving."

"Are you drunk?" Jo demanded, pushing herself up on one elbow.

Dean placed his finger over Jo's mouth to shush her. "I drink for grief. Now excuse me, I must throw up again."

When Dean came back from the bathroom, a little less sick and a lot more sober, Sam was sitting on the couch with Jess and writing his name on her arm cast. His eyes were dark. His mouth was set in a hard, firm line. But it was good to see him out of his room. It released a knot of tension from Dean's chest. He hopped carefully to sit on the battered armchair opposite. "So what brings you two here?"

"I did." Cas pushed the front door open nervously. He looked pale and drawn, as though he hadn't been sleeping. "Sorry to intrude. Dean, Ellen and I have been discussing..."

"Rather, _I've_ been discussing." Ellen interrupted. "Jo's been antsy ever since we came home from the hospital, and Cas seems lonely. They're going to be roommates."

"Oh my god, you're roommates?" Sam looked up. "Jo's going to be living next door?"

"Surprise!" Jo said, throwing her hands up and wincing. "Can't handle things at home anymore, mum's annoying."

"Jo's annoying." Ellen rebuffed. "I brought apple pie. Cas, Sam, could you two handle things around here? I've got to get back to the Roadhouse."

After that, things moved quickly. The rest of the day was spent helping Jo move her stuff into Cas's apartment. There wasn't much, just clothes, books, a small knife collection inherited from her father. It was relatively fast and easy, but even so, once Ellen had left, Jo and Cas still stayed at the Winchester's place. Perhaps they felt that Sam and Dean shouldn't be alone, and they were right. Every time Dean looked at Sam, he struggled to think of something to say. And Sam... well, Sam hadn't looked at Dean. Not yet.

"I'm going to read." Sam announced into the silence. He stood up stiffly and stalked away. A minute later, the door to his room slammed shut to the sound of rock music at full volume. Dean winced. 

Cas and Jo stared down the hall with pitying expressions on their faces. "Poor kid." Jo murmured. "Did you tell him what happened?"

"You mean, did I tell him about the man in the skull mask?" Dean drawled. "No, I told him Bobby drove us into a brick wall to avoid running over a random kid running into the street."

"How can you talk so easily about this?" Cas demanded, looking shocked.

"Tune out emotions. Learned how to do it a long time ago."

Cas muttered darkly and cut himself another slice of apple pie, digging into it with an animalistic ferocity. "Bad habit, Dean. Don't get good at it."

"I'm with Cas on this one, shockingly." Jo jerked her thumb at Cas and raised an eyebrow. "It's not a good thing to do. I cut myself off when my dad died, and it almost destroyed me. You have to be there, especially since you're all Sam has now that Bobby's gone."

Okay. Time to be alone. Dean stood up and started ushering the pair out. "I need to sleep, and you two need to settle in. Trust me, I'll be fine."

"O- Okay." Cas stumbled a little in his haste to climb over the couch. "Look, if you need anything, we're right next door."

"I'm sorry, Dean, I shouldn't have said that." Jo said, dragging her good hand down her face. "Like Cas said, we're here if you need us."

"Bye, see you tomorrow!" Dean said cheerfully, and shut the door the second they were in the hall. He touched his forehead to the cool timber and sighed. Tiring. Exhausting. His hands itched. _Broken fingers my ass._ Dean unwound the bandages from his hands and padded to Sam's door, fist clenched to knock. But no. Let Sam have some peace. Besides, Dean hadn't been lying. He needed some sleep, despite it not even being mid–afternoon. He could barely keep his eyes open.

\---

_Gunshots. Explosions. Dean, lying helpless on the floor of the house as they descended the stairs. The exit was so far away. Where was Jo? Where was Ruby? No escape. No escape. No escape. The man in the skull mask bent over Dean, regarding him quietly. The hood of his cloak cast a shadow over his face, and Dean knew, somehow, that it wasn't a mask. It was the man's exposed skull, and the flesh was peeling away from his head in bloody, ragged strips. As Dean watched, frozen in terror, the skeleton pointed his gun to Dean's face and fired._

Dean woke up screaming. He was on the ceiling. Must still be dreaming, clinging to the ceiling by his fingers and feet. The ceiling. It was dark outside. What a strange thing to notice.

Dean dropped from the ceiling with a yelp and slammed against the floor without enough force to knock the breath from his lungs. Groaning, Dean massaged his temples with one hand. Yeah, definitely awake. Dreams didn't hurt that much, not usually. Something was very, very wrong. Groaning, Dean forced himself to stand and staggered, slamming his hand against the wall to steady himself. When he drew his hand away, the wallpaper came with it, stuck as though Dean's palm was coated in superglue.

Dean frowned and tried to rip it away with his other hand. Then he braced his foot against the wall and tried to shake it off. Didn't work. Wrapped in wallpaper, Dean stumbled and cursed, trying to get it off him, hopping around the room. "Sammy! Sammy, help-"

In hindsight, maybe Ellen had had a point about cleaning up the house. He tripped over a book open on the floor and fell back, reaching out for something to grab, anything. The base of his spine slammed against the windowsill and he tipped backwards, headfirst, out the window, not even awake enough to scream to the starry sky.


	6. Bad Dreams, Better Reflexes

Dean reacted instinctively. The ground rushed up to meet him. He slammed his hands against the bricks, scraping off the wallpaper, grating his fingertips against the stone as he searched for purchase. Not enough. Not enough! Third floor. Second. First. He kicked against the wall, bracing himself, and came to such a jarring stop beside the window of the ground floor that his arms were nearly wrenched from their sockets. A groan of pain escaped him.

It hit Dean abruptly, what had just happened, and he flattened his back to the wall, not looking down, never looking down, he was only one story up but looking down was bad and looking up was even worse because he could see his own opened window so far above him-

He stuffed his fist in his mouth to keep from screaming, and the sudden movement caused him to peel off the bricks and drop to the ground, landing in a cat like crouch on the pavement. With his breaths coming in shallow, ragged gasps, Dean forced himself to walk around the house, back up the front steps, and into the rickety elevator. The resident drunks, insomniacs, and security guards barely even spared this ragged limping man a person glance as he headed for the elevator. No energy for the stairs. He'd just have to suffer.

Jo was standing outside when the elevator doors finally clunked upon. She looked Dean up and down, her jaw practically hitting the floor. "Where are your bruises?"

"What?" Dean glanced down at his bare chest, startled. No bruises. Half-healed scars. Too healed for the time frame. "I- I don't know."

Jo jabbed her finger at Dean's chest, tilting her head up to look him in the eye. "Why's your hair messed up? Why are you out here? Why aren't you in bed? It's three in the morning. What happened to your broken fingers?"

"Matchsticks?" Dean offered helplessly. Jo didn't dignify this with an answer. Her eyes narrowed, and she crossed her arms pointedly.

"Alright, I'll chalk this up to a dream for now." She said slowly. "But tomorrow, when Sam's at school and Cas is at work, we're talking about this. Got it?"

Dean crossed his heart. "Scout's honour. Tomorrow."

As it turned out, both Dean and Jo slept in until early afternoon. By the time Jo burst into the apartment, Dean was shuffling through the kitchen wearing a dressing gown and bandages around his hands. He didn't look up when she entered.

"Good morning, Jo, why are you walking into my house without knocking?" Jo said loudly. Dean looked up, taking a sip of his coffee.

"It's afternoon."

Jo stalked to the couch and lay down, groaning. "Everything hurts. Make me a coffee?"

"Sure, it's why I'm here." Dean poured a second mug and took it to the coffee table, making himself comfortable on the couch with Jo's legs stretched across his lap. She punched him lightly in the shoulder, but her grin was strained.

"So, Dean, I had the weirdest dream last night-"

"If you did, so did I." Dean explained what had happened, leaving out no details. If he was going to get to the bottom of this, Jo had to know everything.

When he was done repeating it for the second time, Jo sat up and placed her chin in her hand, staring at Dean blankly. "You.... climbed the wall?"

"No." Dean took another sip of coffee. "I stuck to it."

" _Can_ you climb the wall?"

"I'm a human being, Jo. I can't climb the wall."

"Right, right, of course you can't." Jo had gravitated onto Dean's lap and was messing with his hand, poking her fingernail against his palm. "Prickly."

Dean snatched his hand away and inhaled the rest of his coffee, not even noticing, or caring, about the burning. Sighing, he sat it back on the table. "Thanks, Jo, I noticed. What do you think's wrong with me? I don't have the flu anymore. I think it was just a stomach bug, actually. No temperature or anything."

Jo seemed thoughtful. Then, without warning, she snatched the empty mug off the table and hurled it at Dean.

Everything else blurred. The coffee mug, sailing towards his face, was in full focus. Closer. Closer. Something between Dean's tingled, becoming more and more intense, and he reached up to defend his face and grab the mug. It stuck to his palm just like the wallpaper had, and he spread his fingers to show it. "That hurt my face."

Jo, however, was occupied with something else. "Dean, you just caught that without blinking. It never touched your face. _What_ is going on with your hand right there?" She gestured wildly to Dean's hand and the mug attached to it like a magnet. "What is- What happened? Recount everything that happened in the past week."

"The past week?" Dean stared, but Jo was off in another world connecting dots. "Alright, uh. Sam broke a glass on Tuesday. Cas was accepted for a job interview on Wednesday. Uh, Thursday, we... Well, Ruby fell to her death, I was bitten by a spider on the stairs, we were shot at, then a second time, then Bobby.... Anyway, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday were in the hospital, and-"

"Wait, wait, wait." Jo held up one hand and whipped Dean's laptop out from under the table. "Spider bite. Did they give you an antidote for it? Are you dying? Dean, did the doctors even know?"

"The venom would've come up on hospital scans. Right? Jo?" Dean shuffled closer to peer over Jo's shoulder as she typed, one handed, into google. "Jo, this is important, am I dying?"

"That's what I'm checking! What did the spider look like?" In Jo's opinion, it would be bad for Dean to see the search results before she had a chance to sift through them. She held the laptop close and twisted so he couldn't see, typing in what he described. After a moment, she spun the screen back around. "Mouse spider."

"No, no, more blue. Longer spinnerets. Skinnier legs." 

"Dean, there's no spider that looks like that-" Jo fell quiet. Dean looked up, startled, watching her eyes grow as round as saucers.

"What? What is it?"

"Found it."

Jo's voice was shaky. Was Dean dying? Would he die? He scraped the mug off onto the table and yanked the laptop away from Jo, reading over the article she'd stumbled on.

"Science experiment... radiation? Spider genetics.... Explosive accident in the house.... What the hell is this, Jo? I was bitten by a radioactive, genetically mutated spider? Is that what it's trying to tell me? Jo? Jo, what is this? This is a Pinterest article!"

"Let me-" Jo tugged on the laptop, growling. "Let go of it. Relax your muscles. Let-" The laptop left Dean's hands with a horrible ripping sound like velcro, and she winced, scanning over the article. "Well the good news is, if it was going to kill you, you would've been dead already. The bad news is, I don't think these side effects will just... go away. There's no mention of this in the article, I don't think they ever tried it on humans. It says that the explosion wiped out the base population before they had time for human trials."

"Wiped out- This is the explosion house? The one I'm investigating?"

"The one across from the murder house where you were bitten, yes." Jo ran her hand through her hair with an exhale. This was spinning out of control, fast. When she'd come over earlier, she had not expected to be sitting here, making a scientific/medical breakthrough.

Dean closed the laptop. Placed it gently on the coffee table. Then he stood up, and slipped on his shoes while Jo watched quizzically. "What are you doing?"

"Doing some investigating. Things keep sticking to me. I want to test my limits. Are you coming?"

A smile split across Jo's face and she rolled to her feet, adjusting the sling behind her neck. "Wouldn't miss it for the world."


	7. Giant Bats

Jo sat back on her lawn chair and sipped her drink, slipping on a pair of sunglasses over her balaclava. This was funny, very funny. Really, as Dean's best and oldest friends, she should be helping him. But no. No. This was much a much better thing to do.

"I don't want to climb." Dean wailed. He was attached to the wall like a starfish. face pressed into the bricks, too afraid to look up or down. Jo muttered under her breath. Typical that the one afraid of heights is the one who gains the ability to do... whatever this is.

"One hand after the other, Dean, it's very simple." Another sip of her milkshake. Dean was shaking now, but Jo was pretty sure it was from the fear, not from any physical strain. 

"Why are we wearing balaclavas?" Dean asked loudly, pressing himself closer to the wall.

Jo sighed and set down her things. Clearly Dean needed some real, adult supervision. "Because we don't want to get arrested for scaling a building. And stop changing the subject. Now, look, see that fire escape? The second one up? All you have to do is climb to that and then we can go home. Yeah?"

This sounded fair enough to Dean. He nodded feverishly and pulled one hand away from the wall. Easy. He was already getting the hang of the whole 'hold and release' thing.

Getting the hang of it. Getting the hang of holding things and then letting go. Something he'd been able to do since he was two years old. A nervous laugh escaped him. What had his life come to? He was lying on a wall, with one hand raised, after being bitten by a spider. "Hey, Jo, why couldn't I do this before? Why did it take so long for the side effects to manifest?"

"Because you had bandages on your hands and couldn't touch anything until yesterday?" Jo suggested. "God, I don't know. Now go on. Your anxiety is contagious."

"Right. Right." One hand after the other. That was all. One after the other. Release, lift, grab, repeat. One after the other. Sweat trickled down the bridge of Dean's nose. He kept his eyes shut. Don't look. Don't face it. Keep going. Keep going. Hand. Now foot. Next hand.

"Dean."

Hand. Foot. Hand. Foot. Pause to breath.

" _Dean._ "

Hand, foot, hand, foot, faster now, easy as regular walking, faster, faster, higher, higher. Exhilarating. Thrilling. Eyes still closed. Jo wasn't yelling anymore. Why wasn't Jo calling to him? Dean blinked and looked down, instantly freezing where he crouched on the wall, seven stories above the ground. Below, far below, Jo was looking up and shielding her eyes with one hand. Dean blinked and shook his head. Dizzy. He felt dizzy. Which way was up? What- his fingers were detaching from the wall, one by one. Uh oh. Had to focus. Focus, reattach, focus- What was that? Dean's attention was ripped away from the wall. Something big. Something coming straight towards him at overwhelming speeds.

Was that a giant bat?

The giant bat folded its wings to fit through the gap between the buildings and slammed against Dean, not even giving him a second glance. Dean shrieked and flailed, trying to catch the leg of the giant bat, but instead white strands like silly string from a can exploded from his wrist and snapped onto the leg of the giant bat. "Woah!"

"What the hell?" The giant bat, or the woman with bat wings attached to her wrist and ankles, looked down, startled. No doubt she wasn't expecting to have a strange, screaming man in jeans, a band shirt, and a balaclava hitching a ride on her leg by a long twisted white rope. But she didn't have time to dwell on it. She had a mission, one that couldn't be completed until she had ditched the hitchhiker.

She pressed a spot on her aviator goggles. "Athene to base, I got company. Lunatic civ. Will be a little late, I gotta get rid of him."

Her headset crackled. "That's a copy. You have five minutes."

"I'll be less than one."

Dean simply clung to the rope, screaming until his throat was raw, the thick material of the balaclava doing nothing to muffle his voice. This was new. This was new. The rope was still attached to his wrist by a worrying slit in the skin, but Dean still managed to wind it around both hands feverishly. He wouldn't look down. He wouldn't look down. 

Above him, Athene thought through her plans. First off, she had to get above the buildings. And to do that, she needed space to stretch her wings. She raised her head to the sky and flapped, hard. Up and up and up, with this moron still crying out and holding that damn rope. Up and up and up, above the buildings, almost to the clouds. The red bandana around her mouth kept flicking up and obscuring her vision. Her muscles burned. Her lungs hurt. The suit wasn't designed for real flight like this- really, it was just a specialised hang-glider. She'd simply soar for a while, and maybe the civilian would fall to his death. Quick, easy, simple.

Low oxygen. Air. Had to get air. Swallowing his terror, Dean started climbing the rope, praying that it wouldn't break. It seemed to be pretty sturdy, despite barely having the width of a solid piece of string. A sob caught in his throat. He was close. So close. All he had to do was get on Athene's back and... And what? Direct her like a horse? It would be safer, that was for sure.

So that's what he did. His hands and feet easily stuck to Athene's grey lycra body suit, but he didn't quiet trust this. He hooked his fingers into her harness, clenching his fists so hard that the black leather cut into his fingers.

Something was wrong. Someone was messing with her harness! Athene tucked her wings against her body and dove, spinning like a corkscrew, her jaw set in determination. Dean screamed and pulled up on the harness, slicing it against Athene's stomach. She gave a strangled glance and reared up as they fell, slamming a fist against Dean's jaw. He raised his hands instinctively to block it, but the punch sent him flying. Good. Athene spun around and flared her wings, catching the air beneath them. It did nothing to slow her descent. Her harness! That civilian had loosened her harness! The ground rushed to meet her.

Dean heard Athene's scream cut off abruptly and winced. He himself had found purchase on a balcony, managing to catch the railing with another rope that yanked him back like a yo-yo. Crouched on the wall, breathing heavily with the rope- no, the spider silk- wrapped around his arm, Dean hugged his knees to his chest and wept.


	8. Half-Human

"No, I don't know what happened." Dean hissed into the phone. "I don't know who she was. I don't know what she wanted. What? I'm okay, I'm fine."

There was a panicked crowd around where Athene had crashed. Dean tucked the balaclava into his back pocket and barged through the crowd, but one look at Athene lying spread-eagled on the pavement, a halo of blood staining her brown hair and seeping into the cracks in the concrete, made him draw up short. "Jo, I'll... I'll call you back."

So much blood. Someone had tugged down the bandana and removed her aviator goggles, which just made Dean feel even worse. Seeing her bloody lips, her glassy eyes... He turned sharply and ran directly into Cas, who simply stumbled back with a puzzled look on his face, as if he couldn't quite place Dean outside of the apartment block. "Dean? What are you doing here?"

"Nothing." Dean spluttered, way too loudly. "I mean, what are you doing here?"

Cas held up his camera. "Working. I'm a photographer. A woman with giant mechanical wings and a belt full of knives just fell from the sky. Pretty sure this'll make the front page, if I can take some good photos. Why aren't you wearing shoes? What happened to your face?"

Face. Dean touched his jawline with a wince. It hurt. That's right, Athene had punched him. "Doesn't matter. I'll see you at home."

\---

Jo was frantic. She kept rushing over to pinch Dean's chin and turn his head this way and that, examining his bruises, checking out his shredded knuckles where he'd struggled to stop his fall. "I think it's safe to say, your rapid healing period is over. Maybe you'll heal a little faster than normal people, but...."

"Don't care." Dean was drinking, again. He'd already burned through two small glass bottles. Noting this, Jo reached out to move his current drink. A small grunt was the only protest. "Listen, Jo, I killed that woman. My fingerprints might be on her harness. I– Jo, what was the? What happened? Look." He held out his hand, pointing to two small tags on his wrist. "Spinnerets. I have spinnerets. This is insane. Spinnerets. Like a spider."

"Like a Spider-Man." Jo agreed, squinting at the spinnerets. "This is incredible, Dean. You're not fully human anymore!"

"Thanks."

Exasperated, Jo slapped her hand over Dean's mouth. "No, shush, shut up and think about it. Through some miracle-"

"-A failed genetic experiment with eight legs-"

"Through some _miracle_ , you can climb walls, heal fast, sense moving objects, and spin webs. You have the powers of a spider. And Dean, I refuse to believe that two people in costume are running around this city, unrelated."

Dean jus stared. He reached out for his drink and took a sip. "Come again?"

"Athene must've hit you harder than we thought." Jo rapped her knuckles against Dean's skull irritably. "Athene and the man in the skull mask are connected, Dean. You can catch the man who killed Bobby!"

"What about Bobby?" Sam kicked the door shut, glancing at the pair with a shadowed expression. His eyes rested on the bruise mottling Dean's jaw. "Who did that to you?"

"Nobody. Don't worry about it, Sam, just talking about work." Once Sam had left to go to his room, Dean shuffled closer to Jo. "Listen, I don't want Sam or Cas to know about this. It's too much. This has to be our secret, okay?"

"Yeah, Spider-Man, got it." Jo reached up to tweak his nose, but Dean easily slapped her hand away with an amused huff. "First thing's first, you're going to need a mask."

"A mask?"

"Yeah, dumbass, a mask. You're hunting a murderer. You don't want him to know your identity. I'm thinking red and black."

"You've got this all worked out, huh? Admit it, Jo, you're enjoying this."

Jo stood up and went to fetch a notebook and a few pencils from the kitchen. She knew where they were kept. "Okay, you'll need specialised gloves and boots as well, thin enough so you can walk on walls, but tough enough to protect you. Y'know what, full uniform. Allow for maximum movement." She sketched as she spoke, sweeping lines and pointed angles. "I know a place where we can buy good material, but you'll have to help me make it. I only have one arm."

Dean studied the drawing quietly. "Fine. I'll humour you. How long will this take to make?"

It was a detailed drawing. A pretty cool one, too. Jo tipped her head to one side. "Mm. I'm sure the two of us together could get it done in a month."

\---

Two quick knocks, three double-taps. That was the code. He adjusted his beanie and shoved his hands into his pockets, straightening up as the door opened a crack. Two faces, both hidden under the shattered faces of a skull, peered at the newcomer suspiciously. One of them, with short, dark hair gathered around her shoulders, stepped out. "State your name and business, or you will be shot."

He would not be intimidated. The newcomer took a breath and tried hard not to fiddle with the zipper of his hoodie. "I was told that this is where I should go if I wanted to be stronger."

The pair with the skull masks exchanged confused glances. It was a.... rare, if not impossible occurrence, when their informants managed to find and deem someone worthy of joining the cause. "Yes." The first skull said eventually. "Why do you want to be stronger?"

This was good. This was a good thing. They were actually, seriously considering the newcomer. He put his hands on his hips and tried to look tough. "Two days ago, someone I love was hurt. I want to protect.... my loved one. I was told that you could teach me how."

"Meg." The second skull tapped the first. "He looks like he'd fit into Athene's wings. And clearly, the boy has a lot of compassion. I think he should be given a chance."

"You have no jurisdiction here, Snapshot." Meg snarled. "Stay in line. And as for you." She turned back to the newcomer. "Go home. We'll consider what you've said and contact you when a verdict has arrived."

"Do you need my phone number-"

"We already know who you are." Meg said breezily. "Snapshot here has been running a profile check on you while we talked. Now leave. Don't come back until we call you."

As soon as the newcomer had walked down the street and disappeared from sight, Meg whirled on Snapshot. "You're lucky I don't have you arrested, mutt. What are you even doing out of your cell? Is this an escape attempt? Because you see, nobody gives off static electricity like you do. I'd know you anywhere."

Snapshot cringed. Golden eyes peered pleadingly through the sockets of his skull mask. Meg snarled and shoved him roughly inside, locking the door behind them.

The people living on the block were used to the screams of the murderer's ghost and his victims. When the screaming began again, they simply turned up their music, rolled over, and went to sleep.


	9. Spider-Man

"You can't just go charging straight at the big man." Jo had said. "You have to work your way up. Figure out how you're doing, make a name for yourself so you're not just some random moron charging into... whatever the hell this is. I'll be behind you one hundred percent."

So here he was. Climbing up and down walls to strengthen his skill, wearing a black jumpsuit, boots, gloves, and his balaclava while the official suit was being made. It wasn't pretty, but it would do for now. 

Dean crawled up onto the roof of an office building and crouched at the edge, scanning the city below. It was a good vantage point from up here. He could see almost everything. And for someone deliberately seeking out trouble, that was a good thing. 

An undignified yelp escaped him as the phone in his pocket vibrated. He fumbled for it and answered without checking who it was. "Yeah?"

Static. Frowning, Dean stood up and paced, pulling the phone away from his ear. Cas. "Cas? You there, buddy?"

More static, and a shuffling sound as if the phone was being moved around. Dean kept pacing, walking across the roof, down the wall of the building, then back up, across, and down again without even thinking about it. "Come on, Cas, buddy, talk to me."

"Dean?" Cas's voice was strange. Crackly and strained. "Jones Bank. The police are here. It's okay, I'm fine, don't be scared-"

Gunshots. Screaming. There'd been too much of that lately. "Cas! Cas!"

Another gunshot, and the phone went dead. Dean was already running, sprinting for the edge of the building. He had to get to Jones Bank. It stood to reason that he could do the web-rope thing again, but on other structures seeing as there was no convenient flying person around. That was the plan, anyway. Probably should've been thought out a little more before Dean hurled himself off the roof, but sometimes you can't prepare for life.

No time to panic. No time to scream. Dean flipped around and waved his hands wildly, focusing on the corner of an apartment balcony. _Come on, come on..._

The web shot from the slits in his gloves and snagged onto the underside of the balcony, slowing his descent like a bungee chord. Dean cheered, both amazed and relieved as he skipped along the roofs of cars, his momentum carrying him over the bewildered traffic. Okay. Okay, he was getting the hang of this. Time to get back in the air.

Dean released the web and shot another, letting it pull him off the roof of the cars and into the air. He was getting the hang of this. It was really working! This was going to be a success story. "Woohooo!"

A few blocks away, Cas was experiencing a strong contender for the position of Worst Day This Month. He hadn't even meant to walk into the bank. He'd just wanted a safe, comfortable place to eat his sandwich and get a rock out of his shoe. That was it. Simple, direct, calm. How had it turned into a hostage situation, with him on his knees with his hands in the air? All he'd wanted to do was eat a sandwich. Was that a crime in this city?

His shattered phone was lying a few feet away. It had been shot out of his hand. A warning shot, Cas knew. If he slipped up again, the bullet would be hitting a much more vital part of the body than his hand. Why couldn't things just go well for once? Ever since moving into Bunkerhouse, it had been one disaster after another.

"Stay down and stay silent. Have I made myself clear?" The robber shouted over the wail of sirens outside. He kicked a random woman hard enough in the ribs to send her sprawling, winded. Cas winced. He wanted to reach out and check on her. He wanted to do that so badly. But he'd already called enough attention to himself as it was. So he left her, and simply settled for glaring daggers at each of the five robbers in turn.

Outside, a megaphone crackled. "Come out with your hands up!"

"Oh, you wish!" The head robber yelled back. He gestured to one of the other robbers. "You. Go tell them that if they try to send anyone in here, I will shoot Young Mr Redhead over here."

Said redheaded-man let out a wail and curled in on himself, trembling as the head's chosen messenger approached the window with her palms raised in surrender. He pressed the gun against the man's head and clicked the safety off. His mouth pressed into a grim line. "Nobody move a muscle. Got it?"

The window above them shattered. The hostages covered their hands with their hands, screaming, while the robbers immediately started shooting at something big and black taking a running dive behind the counter. What was it? A man? A man dressed all in black? The man peeked over the top of the counter, green eyes wild and bright as he searched through the hostages. Cas looked up, shaking, and met the figure's stare. Was that relief he could see?

"Who and what the hell are you?" One of the robbers shouted.

The figure in black hesitated and crouched on the countertop . "I'm.... Spider-Man."

There was a period, a brief period, of total silence before the robbers burst out laughing. Two raised their guns and pointed them at Spider-Man.

For a guy with only a slit in a balaclava to show his eyes, Spider-Man showed a lot of expression. Those eyes crinkled in disgust. "What, like you never had to start from the bottom? Gimme a break." He thrust out his hands, and twin ropes of woven silk burst from his wrists, snapped against the guns, and yanked them into his own hands. He twirled them before setting them gingerly down on the counter. "You should give a guy a chance before writing him off. Take note."

The head robber pulled the trigger, staring at Spider-Man with cold defiance.

The young man's head jerked back and he fell to the floor, blood dripping over his glassy eyes. Someone screamed. Cas could only stare, mouth open in shock, as Spider-Man slowly raised his head to face the robbers, fire in his eyes. "Why?"

"I said," the head robber snarled, "I would shoot him if they sent anyone in here."

Spider-Man crab-walked across the counter and directly up the wall, like a spider picking its way across a web. Not once did he take his eyes off the robbers. When he spoke, his voice was a roar "He was an innocent. He did nothing! Why?!" 

Maybe the robbers sensed that they were in for it now. One of them broke and ran, leaping for the doors and the flashing police lights outside, only to be tripped up by a web rope around the ankles. She yelled in protest, and a smear of web sprouted across her mouth, silencing her. The other robbers huddled together, watching Spider-Man cautiously as he walked back down the wall and across the floor, deadly and purposeful.

"Nobody," he hissed, "is going anywhere."


	10. Officially Orphans

Jo had finished the last touches on Dean's uniform. Or costume, as she called it. However, after seeing the state he had come home in, she wouldn't let him see it. Instead she made him sit down and poured a glass of coffee for him, stretching her newly-healed once-broken arm in delight.

"When I said 'go looking for trouble', Dean, I did not mean.... whatever the hell that is." Jo gestured to the silent TV, which was showing shaky images of a man dressed in black swinging down the road, high above traffic. "Cas was at that bank, Dean. How good's your poker face?"

"My what?"

One of these days Jo would slap Dean, she really would. "Me and you and Sam are Cas's only friends. Any second now he's going to burst in here wanting to tell us about his day. Now get changed, put some concealer on those bruises, and act surprised."

Dean charged off to as he was told, and no sooner had he changed into a pair of tracksuit pants and a green shirt than Cas slammed the door open, startling Jo who was reading on the couch. "Guys! Guys! I could've _died_ today! There was a hold-up at the bank and-"

"Cas! You're okay!" Dean stumbled out of his room and pulled Cas against him, hunching his shoulders. "I heard shooting over the phone and I thought.... I thought...."

Cas returned the hug so tightly that Dean thought his ribs would break. Clearly Cas had been more scared than he'd let on. "I'm okay. I'm okay. But, Dean, Jo, a kid died in there and there was somebody else at the bank, somebody...." The images on the TV screen caught Cas's eye, and he pulled away from Dean to point. "Yes! Him! He called himself _Spider-Man_. He just came in through the window, stole some guns, and... and then...."

"And then what?" Jo asked loudly, giving Dean a side–eye. "How'd he get you all out of the bank safely? Dean, any ideas?"

If Cas thought this comment was weird he didn't say anything, instead he just ploughed on. "He shot the guy who killed the kid in both legs. Then he threw two of the other guys into the wall so hard I'm pretty sure he knocked them out. And _then,_ he wrapped all of them up in cocoons like a spider and threw them to the police before taking the body of the kid and leaving by- get this- swinging."

"Wow, he really did all that." Jo said drily. 

Dean felt that it was important to clarify something. "He probably took the kid to the hospital, y'know? Let them identify him and call his parents."

"He might've." Cas agreed. He groaned loudly and collapsed on the couch, taking a sip of Dean's coffee. "Tired. Is Sam home from school yet?"

"I think he has maths club on Thursdays." Dean said, checking his watch. He sighed and sat down on the couch between Cas and Jo, putting an arm around each of them. "You can't exactly hide this from him."

"Yeah, but I don't have to tell him I was there, either." Cas yawned and stretched, carefully untangling himself from Dean's arm. "I might go to bed, sleep the rest of the day away. I'll see you two later."

The second the door clicked shut after Cas Jo whirled on Dean, leaping to her feet in a blaze of fury. "You shot a man?"

"He killed a kid! I couldn't let it slide, Jo!" At the panic in Dean's voice, Jo's anger extinguished and she settled back on the couch. Dean dragged a hand through his hair and groaned. "That kid wasn't much older than Sam, Jo, he had his whole life ahead of him and that son of a bitch took it away. I could not let that go."

Restless, Jo hopped to her feet again and started pacing around the room, tugging a lock of wavy hair over her shoulder. "We need to set up some ground rules. You can't just go around doing... that. You're not some kind of assassin. You're a superhero, and you should act like it."

"I'm not a superhero." Dean muttered. "Barely even a vigilante." 

Jo whirled and jabbed a finger into his chest. "Don't change the topic! Ground rules. Rule number one: You don't get to handle weapons."

" _What?_ "

"Rule number two: You are not judge, jury, and executioner. Your job is to deliver bad guys to the police. Got it?"

Dean threw his hands into the air in exasperation. "I can live with that. Fine. Anything else?"

Jo paused to think, narrowing her eyes. "Don't forget your motivations? You want to stop people from getting hurt the way Bobby was, and you want to catch the guy who did it. With great power comes great responsibility, Dean, and your responsibility is to stop bad guys from hurting anyone else."

Ah, Bobby. Dean had been too distracted to grieve properly, and he wanted to keep it that way. He dragged an arm across his face to wipe away the tears that sprang to his eyes. "Yeah. Yeah, okay, I can do that."

The door creaked open and Sam walked in. His shoulders were hunched and when he met Dean's eye, he made no attempt to hide the bruise streaking his cheekbone. Instead he just lifted his chin a little higher, as if daring Dean or Jo to say something about it. Dean, of course, had to accept the challenge. As Jo had said, it was his responsibility now to protect the people, and his little brother should come first.

"Sam, why is there a bruise on your face?" 

"Dean, why do you have Jo's makeup over a black eye?" Came the biting reply. When Dean couldn't come up with an answer, Sam stalked past them both and shut himself in his room.

Dean bit his lip, almost hard enough to draw blood. What was he meant to do? Sam was spiralling from him, he could feel it, but he didn't know how to stop it. Give him time. Giving him time would work. It had to. Give him time, find whoever had put the bruise on his face. It been less than two months since the brothers had officially become orphans. Sam just needed a bit of time to adjust, that was all.


	11. Initiation

The newcomer, christened Tyto, had been accepted after a long period of discussion. Allowing new members into the house was always risky, but it had to be done. Ever since Athene's tragic demise, the Night Owls had been one member short. So Tyto had been picked up off the street, ushered into the house where the mass murder happened, and down into the laundry room. Through it all, Tyto had stayed silent. He was unsure about this, of course. He'd never done anything like this before.

"Now, the know you're coming." Aegolius was saying. She adjusted the harness across Tyto's chest, making sure it was on tight enough. "They will bully you a little bit, just to ensure that you know your place. I won't intervene. Are you good to defend yourself?"

Tyto raised his arms experimentally, watching the wings grow to their full size like an umbrella being opened. The metal cuffs on his wrists clicked against the wing's magnetic radius, ensuring they would stay in position until released. The wingtips stretched past his hands, and he had to release the magnets before they could reach full span. "I've never had any training. But I'm sure I can handle them."

Aegolius smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. When Azazel had suggested taking Tyto under her wing, she'd been skeptical. She'd seen him on the security camera feed when Meg and Snapshot and hadn't been wowed. But now, looking into his determined eyes as he adjusted his boots and jumpsuit and tied the bandana over his nose and mouth, she doubted herself. He seemed tough. He could take this.

They took the secret elevator from the laundry room down to headquarters. When they stepped out, Aegolius glanced at Tyto to see his reaction, but he only remained as stoic and serious as ever. At least on the outside.

The facility was half the size of the city, with hallways branching off every wall and leading further underground. A helicopter and two enormous trucks sat quietly in the open space, and everywhere there were people: scientists in white lab coats, special ops in their own unique uniforms, guards in blue and black. A massive screen taking up the far wall was showing images and video clips of current security feeds from every building in the city. 

Tyto almost doubled over and had a heart attack, right there. How could he have lived his entire life in the same place and never realised what was under it? Of course, like everyone else, he knew there had ben a science lab under Erickson's Lane. But this? He had never expected this.

He pulled his goggles down to completely cover his face and looked at Aegolius. "Cool. Where do we go?"

"We have our own hall where we train and sleep." Aegolius said. "Usually we would fly there, but I do not want you to get hurt on your first day. So we will walk. Come along."

Unfortunately, there was no time to give Tyto a proper tour. But that was fine by him. He'd explore on his own later, when he could take the uniform off and become just another face in the crowd. Aegolius led him through one of the many hallways and down another set of stairs which opened up into a hall almost the size of a football field. A section of it was hidden by curtains- likely where the beds were. The rest of the hall was covered in framework as if someone had placed an abandoned construction site down there.

A group of people, each with grey jumpsuits and wings of various colours, stood in the centre of the hall and argued. Every time someone tried to bring up a point, they were shouted down by everyone else. It was amusing to watch, actually. Tyto snickered as a man spread his wings and flapped them hard, scratching the sharp tips against the faces of two of the other Owls. Aegolius started forward immediately.

"Otus! Knock that off! Strix, Bubo, Ninox, Asio, I expect better from all of you. Especially when our new fledgling is here today! What happened to setting a good example?"

The Owls stopped arguing and stood in a line, arms by their sides and chins raised. "Sorry, Aegolius." They barked as one. Tyto could have laughed, if it wasn't so damn creepy.

Aegolius gave a sharp nod. "Everyone, this is Tyto. He is Athene's replacement. I trust you will take care of him? I have some errands I must run. And when I come back, I want an explanation for the fighting. Is that understood?"

At the phrase 'Athene's replacement', the yellow–winged Owl snarled. This guy here was going to be Tyto's toughest competitor. Even so, he gave confirmation to Aegolius's words, and watched her as she left the hall.

The second the door was shut, the Owls fanned out in a circle around Tyto. The tiny clicks of wings meeting cuffs echoed through the hall as all of them prepared themselves. Tyto mimicked, raising his chin. There was nothing to be afraid of. They were just a group of people who called themselves Owls and named themselves after genera. Nerds, all of them. And Tyto would be one of them even if it killed him.

Yellow–wings stepped forward with a growl. "I am Strix. Athene was my wife, and you will _not_ replace her. Nobody can."

"Otus." Snapped Blue–wings.

"Asio." Hissed Purple–wings.

"Bubo." Snarled Green–wings.

"Ninox." Quipped Orange–wings.

Tyto went to put his hands in his pockets, forgetting that the jumpsuit had none. He settled for holding his belt like a demented cowboy instead. "Very impressive. So, where do I sleep?"

He didn't even see the hit coming, but a second later he was doubled over, holding his stomach and gagging. Someone else kicked his legs and he sprawled, collapsing to his hands and knees. Good start. This was going great.

"Get his wings off him. Ground him!" Asio shouted. 

Hands pulled at his harness, unbuckling it and yanking it off him while his head swam. Tyto lashed out a feeble punch, and Otus grabbed his wrist and twisted it. Tyto howled, the pain blinding. He had to get up. He had to get off the floor or they would kill him.

Someone- Strix?- grabbed the collar of Tyto's jumpsuit and lifted him up, high enough so his toes only just brushed the floor. "Nice try, little fledgeling." Strix snarled, tipping his head to one side. "But you're not cut out for this line of work. Better luck next time."

He dropped Tyto to the floor and Bubo stepped forward, her dark hair falling into her eyes. Tyto braced himself, but the kick to the ribs forced him to curl up on himself, coughing blood as the group simply walked away, chatting as if nothing had happened.

This was not going to be a success story.


	12. Scout's Honour

Dean lay in the cemetery, swinging gently in a web hammock he'd strung between two trees. He was in full official uniform, flicking through the newspaper with one red-gloved hand. "Look at this." He turned to the headstone next to him and slapped the photo, aghast. "Look at this! This is so blurry. I'm gonna have to let someone get a good photo of me."

Bobby, predictably, didn't respond.

Dean sighed and pulled his mask back over his face. He could see a group of little girls coming towards him, and didn't want them to see his face. 

One of the girls, who looked about Sam's age, pushed her sisters behind her and looked up at Dean, narrowing her eyes. "Why are you dressed like that?" 

"It's my uniform." He responded dryly. "I have to wear it so I don't get hurt or recognised by others."

The girls stared at him quietly, before one reached out and started fiddling with the webbing in fascination. "I'm Claire." She said, after a moment. "That's Alex, Kaia, and Patience. What's your name?"

"Spider-Man." Dean said absently, urning another page of his newspaper. The girls collectively stepped back, and Alex once again pushed them behind her. Dean couldn't help but to roll his eyes. Wouldn't Jo be proud? He already had a reputation. "Relax, kids, I won't hurt you." 

"But you shot that man at the bank." One of the kids, Kaia, pointed out. "I heard Jodie talking about it. She's a police chief. She said you were a menace and a nuisance to society."

Dean scoffed and sat up, bracing himself in the hammock to keep from falling over. "Jodie's only seen me once. I'm still new to this whole vigilante business, but I'm learning. With you lot as my witnesses, I promise to never hurt anyone again." He paused and held up three fingers. "Scout's honour. Okay?"

The girls exchanged looks, clearly debating his words. Finally, Alex nodded firmly. "We believe you. Have a good day, Mister Man!"

Dean simply raised a hand in a half wave as the girls hurried back to two women on the pathway, one of whom was presumably Jodie. Both were wearing police uniforms. Typical. Hopefully, neither of them would come over to pick a fight. All Dean wanted to do was lie quietly and talk to Bobby. Was that really too much to ask? With a sigh, he slid back into the hammock and rocked himself with one foot on the ground, peeling his mask off his face and sticking it to the tree.

"I dunno, Bobby." Dean said, cushioning his head with his hands. "What am I meant to be doing? Ever since you died, I've felt... lost. I should be doing something. I should be _feeling_ something. But instead I just have.... Nothing. I feel nothing. Is that okay? Of course it's not okay. None of this," he gestured to the black spider emblem on his chest, then the Bobby's headstone and back, "is okay. None of it."

He waited a moment, as if waiting for Bobby's response, then sighed and rolled over. No response would be coming. "Ellen says I'm numb. She said she went through the same thing when Bill died. But I- I- I hate it. I feel fine. Perfectly normal. I should be sad, or angry, or, I dunno, consumed by the need for vengeance. Jo thinks I am. And Sam is just getting further and further away from me. I don't know how to fix it. How can I talk to him, when he's in so much pain and I'm not?"

It was like someone had pegged a handball at his face. Dean's head snapped back and he raised his hands instinctively. Last time he'd gotten this throbbing pain, Jo had thrown a mug in his face. But no. No mug this time. What was it? What was it? Muttering darkly and informing Bobby he'd be back later, Dean pulled his mask back on and leapt to his feet. Which way?

That way? He stood up and whirled, watching a mother and her son crossing the road The kid couldn't have been more than three. 

Without warning, the kid broke and ran, sprinting into traffic in pursuit of a colourful bird. His mother yelped and made to rush after him, but a driver beeped his horn desperately and she froze, staring at the oncoming car with wide eyes.

"Sorry Bobby, duty calls!" Dean hollered, already running. No time to strategise. No time to plan. He threw himself froward, tackling the woman to the ground. The car honked again and the driver wrenched the wheel, heading towards an inevitable crash. Dean shot two webs at the bumper of the car and was promptly yanked off his feet, but he managed to slow it long enough for the other cars to drive around, thus avoiding the collision. The driver was simply sitting there in shock.

The woman was still lying where she fell, trembling. "My baby! Where's my baby?"

"Uhhh, hold on m'am, I got him." Dean clambered up onto the roof of a car and leapt to the next, and the next, scanning the ground below. Occasionally he'd bend over to look in through the driver's windows and ask if they'd seen the kid. None of them had. Most of them just screamed, horrified that a man in a red, web–patterned mask with huge white eyes was just standing calmly on the roof of a moving car.

Traffic slowed to a near standstill. Dean lay down on the roof, making little web parachutes in the air. He should probably go back to the woman. Maybe someone else had found her kid. But if nobody had, then... Well, how could he face her? He was meant to be a vigilante. A superhero. Fine, he would be a superhero. He-

"Hello again, Mister Man."

Familiar voice. Dean turned his head to look at the car next to his taxi. A familiar smirking face was looking out of it. He scrambled to sit up, swinging his legs off the side of the roof. "Alex?"

The driver wound down her window, frowning up at Dean. "Jodie Mills." She reached out her hand, and Dean leaned forward to shake it, bemused. "I believe I have a kid in the back you're looking for. Now, I can't exactly get him back to his mother myself, and traffic's pretty terrible. My girls tell me I can trust you."

She seems so fierce, so distrusting, that Dean had to salute. "You can count on me."

Alex carefully helped the little boy, Jesse, to climb out the window and into Dean's arms. Murmuring reassurances, Dean secured Jesse to his chest with a baby sling made out of a couple layers of silk. This earned a raised eyebrow from Jodie, and Dean simply stood up, bouncing a little on the balls of his feet to test the strength of the baby sling. Yeah, this would work. This would be good. He raised his mask a little to poke his tongue out at Jesse, he mimicked.

"Hey, Mister Spider-Man?" Alex said suddenly.

"You don't have to call me 'mister'." Dean spun in a slow circle, readjusting his mask and searching for somewhere to shoot a line.

Alex made a muttering noise. "Well, _sir_ , thank you for honouring your promise."

For a moment Dean just stood there. Then he held up three fingers, smiled, and left, one arm curled around Jesse to keep him safe.


	13. Interrupted Conversation

It was Jo and Dean's little secret. But they shared it as best they could with Sam and Cas. Or, rather, Cas excitedly shared his own version with them by showing off the photos he'd taken of Dean- Spider–Man- swinging above traffic with a child attached to him. It looked pretty funny. But, Dean had to admit, Cas was a good photographer. He said as much, and Cas almost glowed with happiness.

"It was pretty easy to get a shot, actually. I swear he was angling himself deliberately." Cas flicked through the photos as if still in awe over the spectacle.

Jo glanced at Dean pointedly. "Maybe he was showing off the new suit. Whoever made that thing is a damn genius."

"Agreed." Cas murmured, tracing Spider-Man's form with one finger. "Hey, Sam, thoughts?"

Sam looked over at the photos, his eyes slightly glazed. "Yeah, pretty cool, Cas." He stood and zipped up his hoodie. "I'm going to my room. Homework. See you guys later."

He left. Jo stood as well, though more uncertainly than Sam had. "I have work soon. Dean, I'll tell them you can't come in today, but you have to go tomorrow. Hannah and I are going out to photograph the local dog show. Nowhere near as exciting as this, I'll agree, but still, must be done."

"Are you kidding me? You literally get to spend your entire day surrounded by dogs." Cas protested. "That's the dream."

The only reply was a laugh as Jo left the apartment and closed the door behind her. 

It was quiet in the apartment, all of a sudden. Dean cleared his throat and stood up, dusting off his jeans, and heading for the kitchen. "Do you... do you want anything? Beer? Coffee? I can have a go at making tea, if you like." He swore as he knocked over the kettle, and fumbled to pick it up.

The sound of Cas laughing quietly brought a flush to Dean's cheeks. "Coffee would be nice." Cas wandered into the kitchen to watch Dean work, resting against the kitchen counter and wincing when it creaked beneath him. Dean just did his best to ignore him, pouring out two coffee mugs while Cas played with the wooden counter top, creaking it up and down and giggling like a little kid.

"Stop breaking my house, it already leaks when it rains." Dean slapped his hand off the counter and passed him a coffee. "Here. Go sit down."

Cas swiped a few biscuits from the cupboard as he passed and dipped them in his coffee, settling cross-legged on the dining table. Blinking, Dean hopped up next to him, swinging his feet idly. He cringed as Cas dropped a biscuit in the coffee, and Cas raised an eyebrow. "What? You think its weird? It's so normal to eat biscuits with coffee."

"Not like that, it's not." Dean deadpanned, watching Cas break up the biscuit with a spoon and stir it in. "That's just wrong."

It seemed that Cas either couldn't hear Dean or was deliberately ignoring him. He leaned back, almost lying down on the table and eating soggy coffee-biscuit from a spoon with dramatic, exaggerated moans of delight. Dean rolled his eyes and tossed a pillow at him, a burn rising to his cheeks. Cas yelped as the coffee spilt and rolled off the table, throwing the pillow back at Dean and cackling madly. It was nice to see him this happy. It was calming. 

"You're staring at me, Dean." Cas said, amused. He dragged himself across the floor to bump his head against Dean's leg. "Bleh."

Dean grinned and picked Cas up as though he were a child, setting him back on the table and standing back as Cas stared, open mouthed. 

" _Jesus_ , you're strong."

"Thanks, I work out." Dean hesitated and turned towards the window, brushing his fingers across his aching temple absently. "Do you hear sirens?"

"Sirens? No." Brushing Dean's hand off his shoulder, Cas sauntered to the window to throw it open and lean out. "Actually, a little. Yeah, some sirens. Sounds far away, probably nothing to worry about."

The door slammed, making Cas jump. He edged towards the door and opened it, looking down the hall warily. "Dean?"

Dean stripped down to his suit, webbed his bag to the wall, and took off at a sprint down the street until he could build up enough momentum to lift himself off the ground and swing over the streets, chasing after a firetruck with sirens blaring. He swore as threw himself nimbly, annoyed at the interruption. It had been really nice to sit and talk with Cas. Sometimes it felt like they hadn't spoken properly to each other since the bank incident.

Too wrapped up in his own thoughts, Dean didn't even notice the burning building until the flames bit through his web. Dean dropped abruptly and yelped, managing to catch another web against the balcony of the building adjacent. He swung around and attached himself to the brick wall, taking in the scene. It was very high up here. Very, very... Dean took a shaky breath. Focus. Time to focus. He could freak out later, if he had to.

Someone on the ground screamed and pointed. Dean watched as a woman clambered over the railing of her balcony, looking fearful back at her burning apartment. Dean moved forward warily, wrinkling his nose against the acrid tang of the smoke. The woman wasn't actually going to... was she? 

The woman launched herself off the balcony, screaming, and Dean swung forward, snatching her out of the air and pulling her close to him. Her nails dug into his shoulders, but she seemed almost calm as she peered up at Dean. That was worrying. Maybe she was in shock. It would be understandable, at least. 

"My... family.... my.... neighbours...." The woman gasped. "They're all still in there."

"Uhhh don't worry ma'am I got it under control." Dean said hastily.

Dean came to a running stop on the pavement and passed the woman off to paramedics. Instantly the gathered crowd started shouting to him, garbled words he couldn't make out. No time for that. The sooner he fixed this mess, the sooner he could get back to his conversation with Cas.

"Who the hell are you?" One of the firemen demanded.

"Spider-Man, here to help." Dean held out his hand and the fireman shook it, bemused.

A siren wailed briefly, announcing the presence of the police. Crap. The police. Dean broke away from the fireman, gave a three-fingered salute to the astonished Jody Mills, and slingshotted himself through the open window of the burning building.


	14. Return Of The Giant Bats

As far as plans go, Dean's wasn't the greatest.

He crashed to the ground in the burning apartment and admittedly rolled to dodge a smattering of cinders and sparks from the remains of the couch. Heart thumping, Dean scrambled to his feet and shielded his eyes against the flames. Already, he could feel sweat pouring down his face. His throat was raw. Smoke inhalation. What a way to go, to die of smoke inhalation up here having abandoned Cas and Sam at home without warning.

Sam. Ah, he couldn't die now. Couldn't let Sam down. Dean coughed and headed out of the apartment, into the blazing hallway. The entire floor, it seemed, was burning. That was bad. He trailed a hand across the wall, unable to see through the flames and smoke. "Hello? Hello? Anyone still in here, gimme a yell!" 

Either someone heard him, or they decided at that exact moment to scream. Dean hesitated, sourcing the sound, before kicking open a door down the hall and immediately being greeted by roaring flames. With a cry of shock he fells back and flipped, sticking to the wall and crawling up and away from the flames. "Hey! Hey! Who's in there?"

"Please!" Came the response. "Please, please, we're dying! We'll die!"

That was the beauty of Dean's master plan. He was making it up as he went along. The next step, naturally, was to toss himself through the flames and into the room with the screaming person.

He hit the ground and rolled, trying to beat the flames off his arms. A pained hiss escaped his mouth and he staggered to his feet. Everything was burning. He could hardly see for the haze of smoke and the glow of the flames. This was insane. Insane! "Hello? Where are you?"

"In the bathroom! We're in the bathroom!"

Dean swore and clung to the ceiling. It would be better to pass over the top of the flames than walk straight through them, that was his reasoning. He hurried to the closed door, behind which the kid was screaming. He'd have to be quick about this. Get in, shut the door, keep the flames out. Easy. Effortless.

He dropped from the ceiling, yanked the door open, fell in, and kicked the door shut as he scooted backwards, successfully keeping this little bathroom clean and dark. That was good. 

A smudged, frightened face peered over the edge of the bathtub. Just a boy. A little younger than Dean himself, perhaps. "Who are you?"

"Friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man. Come on, I'll get you out of here." Dean stood up and darted to the window, throwing it open to allow fresh air in and smoke out. That was all that would be getting out, however. The window was far too small to climb out of safely. So either the wall would have to go, or they'd have to make it to a different window. So far, the second option was, while the least appealing of the two, the easiest.

The boy ducked back into the bathtub. "I don't know if she's breathing." He whispered hoarsely. bemused, Dean hurried to the bathtub and looked in, examine the motionless firefighter. She seemed fine, other than the fact that she was unconscious. Great. This made Dean's job a whole lot harder. He took a shaky breath.

"What's your name?"

"Tamer." Frightened eyes met Dean's as he started unclipping his mask at the back of his neck. "What are you doing?"

"Gas mask. Smoke inhalation." Dean hesitated for a moment before taking off the mask and blinking at Tamer, ducking his head a little. "I've taken in less than you have, I'll be fine. Put it on."

Tamer did so, gazing at Dean through the white almond eye-holes. Good. That was one problem solved. The firefighter, of course, had her own gas mask which helped the issue quite a bit. "Alright, Tamer. I'm gonna have to carry her, which means you're gonna have to run with me. Got it?"

"Yes, sir." 

Dean scooped the firefighter up in his arms, adjusting her so she was comfortable. Was she breathing? Tamer had made a good point. The woman was wrapped in so many protective layers that it was difficult to tell, and Dean was too afraid of removing her mask. "Okay, Tamer, on three. One, two, three!"

Dean kicked the door open and immediately fell back, one arm out to protect Tamer from the flames that roared forward, hungry for the fresh oxygen in the bathroom. Someone screamed. Tamer, probably. Dean reached back and grabbed his hand, webbing the firefighter to his chest for extra support. "Now! Now!"

They ran, stumbling and tripping with flames licking at their feet, blinded by smoke and cinders. It didn't take long for Dean to start coughing, fighting the urge to cover his mouth with his arm. To do so would mean dropping the firefighter. No, they had to keep going. The bedroom would have a decent sized window, he was sure of it. If the layout was anything like his own building... Yes! Into the burning bedroom, struggling not to touch anything hot, gagging at the acrid tang of smoke, but there was the window. Right there. Dean yanked it open, pulled Tamer against him without a word, and leapt.

Tamer screamed as they fell, spiralling, and clung to Dean tightly. Good. That was good. Dean needed a free hand to swing. He caught the building across with a web and carried them over the heads of shouting onlookers. Damn. His face. Dean ducked his head, hiding from the cameras and the viewers. He'd have to get his mask back, as soon as possible.

Onto the next building, onto someone's balcony. Dean took his mask back from the trembling Tamer, and squinted back at the burning building. He'd have to go back in. There might be others still in there.

"You're my age." Tamer said shakily. He was slouched against the balcony, as if he couldn't feel his legs. "Aren't you?"

"I'm twenty." Dean fixed the clips at the back of his neck and adjusted the eyeholes. "Okay, I'd like to stay up here so I can get back to your building easily, so I'm going to lower you down. Are you okay with that?"

At Tamer's nod, Dean fixed a web to his chest and began lowering him off the edge of the balcony, into the anxious arms of family. The firefighter, blinking drowsily, followed quickly after and was immediately crowded by paramedics. Good. Dean stood up on the railing, perfectly balanced, and leapt into the air. He had a good target for a web, a perfect place that would send him straight into an open window.

Something smacked into him, hard, and wrapped around his ankles. He was off course! He was... rising? He was being taken higher and higher, away from where he'd intended to go.

He looked up, directly into faces covered by bandanas and goggles, shaded by colourful wings. Expressionless, blank faces. Impossible. Athene was dead. No, there were two of them. There- He shot upwards, blinding the Athene with blue wings. He shrieked and let go, and the purple–winged Athene grunted as she was forced to take Dean's full weight.

"Otus!" The purple–winged Athene shouted. "Asio to group, Otus is down. Require backup immediately."

And all of a sudden there were more, descending on Dean like seagulls fighting over a single chip. Blinding colours. Blinding. Getting higher and higher, further and further away from where he'd been. He shot more webs, blinding, tangling, and abruptly they dropped him, shouting and yelling instructions to each other.

High above the city, nothing to hold on to, Dean fell through the clouds like a stone.


	15. No Witnesses

Dean managed to break his fall by singing to the side of a building and skidding down, his hands and feet raw from the sheer speed. The landing, while still rough, was not bone shattering and Dean just lay on his back, winded. Above him, the winged people circled like vultures. Were they looking for a place to touch down? Probably. In this state, there wasn't much Dean could do about it. All he could die was push himself up onto his knees and watched as they surrounded him, fanning out to block off the alley.

"Well, Tyto, looks like that hang-glider extension works well. It's nice to have the ol' arms free. Seems you're worth keeping around after all." Said a small girl, with red hair falling in front of her goggles. One of them, the one with Athene's colours, ducked his head at the compliment. 

"Not yet he's not. The hang-glider extensions works well, but he's yet to prove himself. You." Yellow-wings took a step towards Dean, he stood to meet him. "My name is Strix. I am the Secondary to the Night Owls Patrol, and you killed my wife."

Oh. Right, okay, Athene had been part of this group. That made sense. "I haven't been doing this gig for long, Strix. Haven't killed anybody. Now why don't you move along?"

Dean didn't even see his hand flash out, but he sure as hell felt Strix's fingers press into the inside of his wrist, against those damned spinnerets. A shriek of pain escaped Dean, scraping against his raw, burnt throat, and the spinnerets burst. Webbing and strands of half–formed silk exploded, pooling off Dean's arms, gathering in bloody clumps of shining goo in his palm. Dean collapsed back to his knees, and Strix dug his nails into his shoulders to force him to look up..

"Then why," Strix hissed, pulling down his bandana, "was she wrapped in spider silk?"

Tears pricked against Dean's eyelashes, threatening to spill over. He raised his good hand, hovering it by the clasp of the mask protectively, but Strix just laughed. "You really think I want to know who you are? No, it's much better this way. It-" He stopped and looked up at the sky, head cocked. Dean followed his gaze. The sun was just dipping behind the cityscape, casting an eerie glow. Had Strix really interrupted himself mid-monologue to watch the _sunset?_

One of the other Night Owls- Asio, if memory served- seemed frightened. "Bubo, time? Time? Anyone have the time."

Dean pretended to check a watch, catching his gaze on a clock through a nearby. "It's almost four o'clock, why? Got an appointment at the aviary?"

Strix swore and backed away from Dean, whipping his head feverishly from side to side. "Witnesses! Witnesses!" He hissed. "Any witnesses?"

"No witnesses." The red–head confirmed. "Tyto, come with me. Now. No, don't look-"

It was as if someone had set off a bomb. With agonised screams the Night Owls simply blew apart, pieces of them splattering the walls, the cement, the metal railings of the fire escape. Dean threw up his arms to cover his eyes, shrieking as he watched the skulls burn, the blood run down the bricks in rivulets and gather in pools on the ground. 

Tyto was screaming. He sounded young. Young and frightened and vaguely like he was going to throw up. "Strix! Otus! Oh, god, Asio! ninox, what happened?! Ninox, what happened to them?! Ninox!"

Ninox swore under her breath and grabbed Tyto's hand, shouting for him to run. So they did, still sobbing, out of the alley and into the shadows.

As for Dean, he just lay slumped against the wall, panting. Around him, the blood and bones and ashes and chunks of flesh were simply fading as if being erased by a cruel artist. Within seconds, the alley was empty, as if the incident had never happened. In fact, Dean would have been willing to believe it didn't save for his own blood and pools of silk. The wound was still there, still bleeding steadily. He swore and rifled through his suit, searching for his (hopefully undamaged) phone.

"Hey, Jo?" He said weakly. "I'm hurt bad. I need you to pick me up. Alleyway on Broad Street. Please."

Dean didn't think he'd ever seen Jo so angry. She'd picked him off the ground in complete silence, said nothing on the drive home, stayed in her wordless fury as she fixed his burns, his cuts and scrapes, cleaned his wrist out and slapped a bandage on it. It wasn't until they were both sitting quietly in Dean's room did she lose it.

"Dean! You complete idiot, what were you thinking?" She snarled, slamming her fist onto Dean's desk. He flinched. "I was at work! Working! What the hell happened? I left you and Cas here this morning and the next thing I know I'm picking you out of a bloody puddle in an alley two blocks from a burning building! What the _hell?"_

Dean put his hands up defensively. "Jo, listen, I know you're mad, but I have a job now. I have a power, and a responsibility that comes with it like you said-"

"I did _not_ mean to throw yourself into a burning building, reveal your face to someone who might recognise you, and then- what, what was it you said you did? You hit your wrist on the side of a building and _broke your spinneret?_ Nope. Dean, you haven't been an official superhero for even a week, and I can't leave you alone for one second! You-"

Dean's door burst open, and there was Sam, his long hair swept in front of his eyes. He looked like he's just rolled out of bed and hit the table on the way down. "Could you guys hate-flirt elsewhere? I'm sleeping."

"Sorry, Sammy." Dean tried for a smile, but Sam's attention was on his bandaged wrist. "I, uh, scraped it on a brick wall while I was out today."

Sam just blinked slowly, as if he couldn't care less. "Put a shirt on and shut up."

He left, slamming both Dean's door and his own as if to make a point. Groaning, Dean put his head in his hands. "God, Jo, I don't know what to do."

"You suck it up and be a big brother. It's not just the city that's your responsibility, it's him and Cas too, and first. Look, I'm gonna go home, Cas is cooking something pretty good. I would say you're welcome to join, but seeing as he called to tell me you ran out on him, I doubt you want to explain yourself."

She walked out, and didn't look back.


	16. Let's Do The Time Warp Again

The second he could, Tyto broke away from Ninox and ran for it. He was too conspicuous. Too noticeable. Too similar in appearance to the other Night Owls, the ones who had exploded, burned, died, no, he'd hated Strix, he hadn't like the other Night Owls, but he hadn't wanted them dead. He hadn't wanted _this_.

He had to hide. He had to melt into the crowd, and thankfully, disappearing was one thing he was good at. Barely even slowing down, he folded his wings up, peeled his body suit off, snatched a hoodie from someone's shoulder, swiped a backpack from someone else. Bandana, goggles, bodysuit, wings, all of it went into the stranger's backpack and suddenly Tyto could have been anyone. He was just another teenager in a hoodie and skinny jeans walking in the sunset-bathed street. Nobody even spared him a glance. Good. That was what he wanted.

Without even meaning to, Tyto found himself heading for base. They'd have answers. Someone there would have answers. They had to.

"No, no, no." Tyto stepped out of the elevator shaft and into the empty space where the massive base had been just this morning. Well, 'empty space' was the wrong word for it. 'Charred ruins' worked better.

Shellshocked, Tyto picked his way through the debris, brushing his fingers across every wall, every surface, his hands coming away black with ash and charcoal. Something clattered as the toe of Tyto's boot made contact, and the hollow sound echoed in the silence. Bone. It was somebody's thigh bone. Tyto jammed his fist in his mouth to keep from screaming and sank to the floor.

"Thought I might find you here." 

Tyto looked up, sniffling. He'd never seen Ninox in civilian clothing before, but she was still easily recognisable. Red hair, kind looking eyes, a very uplifting voice. Tyto dragged his sleeve over his face to wipe away his tears and glared. Ninox had known this would happen. She'd tried to make him look away. She hadn't warned him. Nobody had told him that something like this was even possible.

Ninox, it seemed, could read all of this in Tyto's expression. She held out her hand in an attempt at making peace. "Listen, Ty, I know this is difficult to understand–"

"Difficult to understand?!" Tyto leapt to his feet with a grand gesture around the burned room. "Look at this! Look at it! It exploded! It exploded, just like Strix and the others! Look, this is someone's leg bone. Where's the rest? Who knows, because they blew apart!"

And back down, dropping to his hands and knees, tipping sideways, curling up on the floor. He struggled to blink back tears, and turned his head away from Ninox. Ridiculous. He was strong. He was tough. He was _Tyto_. Tyto, who argued with Strix continuously. Tyto, who helped out in the R&D department. Tyto, who did not cry, not ever, not even when he saw the ones who loved hurt, again and again and again.

"Ty, Ty, look at me. Look at me, okay, because I can explain everything." Ninox took his hands in hers and helped him stand. She was tiny. He'd never noticed how small she was before– then again, he was pretty tall himself. Maybe she was normal height. She gently tapped him on the cheek. "Hey. Focus. Come with me."

They picked their way through the ashes of the labs, making a point not to look at anything on the ground for fear of what it might be. Tyto kept his hand in Ninox's, taking short, shallow breaths. This was insane. If an explosion had gone off down here, he would've heard it. Everyone would've heard it. Why hadn't they?

Ninox was leading them down into the hall where they lived. Ridiculous. This was not the time for training. "Ty, I need you to prepare yourself."

"Prepare myself? What for?"

In response Ninox pushed the door open, sorrow pooling in her eyes.

The aviary was not as decimated as the rest of the base, that much was true. Everything was singed, broken, rusted, corroded. The flames had definitely hit, but not as hard. Not hard enough to disguise the bodies, a grotesque mix of burned corpse and skeleton, splayed on the ground with arms outreached as if they'd fallen from the sky. One, two, three, four, five. All with jaws hanging open in the remnants of silent screams.

"I... I don't understand." Tyto whispered. The smell of burned flesh was incredible. He took a step back, pressing his forearm over his face. Aegolius. Oh god, he could recognise her body still.

Ninox took a shaky breath and pointed. "That one's Strix. You can tell because he's got his head turned to Aegolius to ask her for instruction. That one's Bubo, he tried to catch Asio when she fell, because she died first. There's Otus, he was aiming for the fire escape."

Creepy. Disturbing. Ninox was only curious about Tyto's reaction, not the bodies strewn across the floor. Tyto pressed his trembling fist against his lips. "No. No, no, no, no, _no_. Did you... bring their bodies here?" For all his terror, Tyto's voice was remarkably calm. "Ninox, answer me. Ninox. Ninox."

Instead of replying, Ninox led Tyto to the platforms and sat him down, crosslegged in the light filtering from the fire escape. "Ty, do you believe in miracles?"

Tyto stared at her for a solid three seconds before gesturing around with a strangled noise. Miracles? How could he believe in miracles anymore, with his family going to hell and his teammates melting before his eyes and the base, his _home_ , blowing apart in an explosion nobody had mentioned? How could he?

With a sympathetic sigh Ninox squeezed his hand. "I know, I know. But, look, you're young. Almost a decade ago now, there was... an explosion. A bad explosion, that took out this entire base and managed to reach all the way up to the surface and destroy the street. I'm sure you heard? How old would you have been?"

"Six, maybe seven? Didn't live here at the time." Tyto scratched the back of his head anxiously, tucking himself into a tighter ball. He was unable to take his mind off the bodies of his teammates on the ground, far below him. Amazing how numb he was to it, considering. "Why's that important?"

Ninox hushed him quietly, squinting up at the slits of fading light. "That explosion happened due to a mix of things. Chemicals, technology shortages, biological experiments. A true menagerie. But the end result was... not quite right. No, hey. Look at me." She grabbed his chin and forced him to look at her. "Don't you dare disassociate. You need to know the truth. And the truth, Ty, is that nobody in this building is dead."

Nobody was dead. But he was looking right at the bodies, the bones, the carnage. "What?" He croaked.

"This is a loop, Tyto." Ninox whispered. Her eyes were sparkling. "This is a time loop. It's been going on for ten years, everyone in here has been trapped. Dying in a horrible explosion, contained to the base, and waking up the next morning in their beds. You saw what happened to the team, Ty, the can't live normal lives like this. We need to break them out, you and me. And if anyone tries to stop us? We'll break them too."


	17. Legally Dead

Three in the morning, two days after the incident. Dean couldn't sleep. He hadn't left the house. He hadn't spoken to Sam. All he'd done was hang around in his pyjamas, nursing a sting in his wrist that was hopefully the regrowth of spinnerets, not an early warning sign for infection. Sam, also, hadn't left the house. All he did was come out for food, watch the news over Dean's shoulder for a minute, and wander back to his room for the next few hours. Hadn't Sam once been the social one in the family?

Three in the morning, two days after the incident. Dean couldn't sleep. Every time he closed his eyes he saw Strix's skull clatter to the ground, flames and blood at the eyeholes before it faded into nothing. Was he losing his mind? Had that actually happened? Fresh air. He needed fresh air, good air, away from the pollution and noise of the traffic of the streets below. He didn't want to be himself. Dean Winchester was a bad person, a disappointment of a brother, a man who drove his friends away, a child haunted by nightmares. No, he needed to climb, and he needed to swing.

So that's how Dean ended up sitting on the edge of the roof of his building, shooting fragments of pathetic string across the street with his injured wrist. Practice makes perfect, that's what Bobby always said. No reason why that shouldn't apply for an injured limb- was it a limb? He paused for a moment, mulling this over. He'd definitely grown a new body part, but what was it, exactly?

"Hello?" A wary voice called. Dean quickly fixed his mask and looked over his shoulder, meeting Cas's deep blue eyes. For a moment, he thought he'd fall off the edge of the roof from shock alone. Seeing Cas like this, in with old pyjamas and ruffled hair.... Well, it was a contrast to the usual gentle, put-together person Dean was used to. 

The two just stared at each other from across the roof, in equal amounts of shock and confusion. After a moment Cas came closer, edging his way to the edge of the roof to sit near Dean. Not next to, but near enough that if Dean stretched his arm out he could touch him. But he wouldn't. He couldn't. Cas didn't know him like he knew Cas. All he wanted to do was give his friend a hug, tell him talk to him about seeing the fire, but no. No, he just had to sit here in silence and-

"You're legally dead, you know." Cas said after a while, yanking Dean out of his spiralling. "They saw you fall. They didn't think anyone could survive a fall like that, or at least, not walk away uninjured. How did you?"

Maybe Dean should... respond. But if he responded, Cas might recognise his voice. But maybe he wouldn't. Not if he changed it enough... "I didn't. I'm out of action." To demonstrate, Dean started shooting sputtering of web from his injured spinnerets, wincing as he did. It still hurt.

Cas winced in sympathy, but he seemed to be at a loss for word. He kept staring at Dean with an awestruck expression. It was very unnerving, actually. Dean shifted slightly, uncomfortable. "Hey, listen, what're you even doing out here anyway? It's four in the morning."

"Oh, nothing." Cas shrugged one shoulder nonchalantly. "I like being up here at this time, that's all. It's quiet. Why are you out here?"

"I'm just here to clear my head." Dean explained, kicking his legs up to lie against the ledge. Cas, perhaps confused, mimicked to lie head-to-head with him. This made Dean laugh quietly, only to sit upright, spasming as a coughing fit took hold of him. He planted his hand against the ledge, making sure he wasn't going to fall off as he struggled to breathe.

When it was over Cas gave him a tissue and a water bottle. "That's from the smoke inhalation, right?"

"What?" Dean croaked. He pulled his mask up to his nose to have a drink, sloshing the water around his mouth.

"The smoke inhalation." Cas leaned in slightly, anxiety flickering in his eyes. "I know you were at the fire. How could you not be?"

Right, right, the fire. Dean took another sip of water before fixing his mask, passing the bottle back gratefully. "Did everyone get out of there okay?"

"Everyone was fine. That firefighter you rescued took a hard hit to the head somehow, but they're confident she'll make it. Everyone else is more or less uninjured. Everyone except you, that is. What happened?"

That... was actually a good question. "Well, what did it look like happened?"

No response from Cas. He was lying down again, swinging one leg off the edge of the roof thoughtfully. "It looked like you were kidnapped by a swarm of rainbow bats." 

"Yep, pretty much. They call themselves the Night Owls, which is pretty stupid."

"You call yourself Spider-Man."

"That's true." Dean was quiet for a moment, scratching idly at his wrist. He could see the stars from here. That was nice. Calming, relaxing, exactly what he'd come up here for. "It doesn't matter anymore, anyway. They're dead."

"What, all of them? Did you kill them?" No hesitation. No reluctance. Clearly, Cas thought Dean was not only capable of killing someone but also willing to do so. That hurt. He'd have to fix his reputation. 

"No, not all of them. Two survived. But the rest, they... it was like they'd swallowed bombs. I had nothing to do with it." Dean closed his eyes, reflecting back on Strix's last cries for the time. Why was he so worried about the time? Where had the bombs come from? Tyto. Tyto, clearly the newest group member, he hadn't known it was going to happen. He'd screamed more than Dean had. Why hadn't it happened to him too? Dean just shook his head slowly, mystified.

Everything was just... bad. Complicated. It was all so simple, and yet none of it made sense. Dean pushed himself up, dangling his legs over the edge of the roof. Cas, still lying down on the ledge, sighed with him.


	18. Untangling The Web

"What the hell is this?" Dean gestured to the wall of Jo's room, struggling to take in what he was seeing.

Jo kicked her door shut and started bouncing on the bed, her arms crossed at the look of disdain on Dean's face. "It's a crime board, obviously. Took me weeks to make and I would greatly appreciate it if you didn't bash it."

"You think I'd bash this? Jo, it's amazing!" It certainly summarised everything they knew about what was going on, namely that they knew nothing. Dean reached up to touch a red piece of string connecting two pictures; a photo of Ruby and a drawing of the man that had killed Bobby with a sticky note on it that simply said 'many'. 

He ran his finger down the string, from Ruby the the murderer and two Bobby. Two murders, one man. One organisation? A blurry photo of the Night Owls led off him, with a note covered in question marks and a simple 'spontaneous combustion, related to time? Unnatural'. Slightly away from them was a photograph of the murder house and the explosion house, connected by string to a drawing of the spider and a drawing of Dean. Leading off Dean, a photo clipped from a newspaper of Spider-Man. It was a small crime board, true, with tiny minor segments and theories leading off the main body, but it was pretty impressive.

Except for this. Dean poked his finger at his own face staring back at him. "You're gonna have to be careful with this. Make sure Cas doesn't see it."

Jo just scoffed. Clearly, she was unbothered. "Look, Dean, we have so many unanswered questions here. The Night Owls. The guy in the skull mask. How they're related. Why Ruby was killed. Why the murder house was being used for the skull mask guy to have a meeting or whatever it was he was doing. What–"

"I know everything you do, Jo, you don't have to lay it out for me." Ridiculous. Annoying. _Painful_. He'd been neglecting his duties. He'd succeeded in forgetting about Bobby and his murderer. Muttering to himself, Dean paced up the wall and stood on the ceiling, curling his arms over his head. Jo just arched an eyebrow at this.

He kept pacing, taking deep breaths with his eyes closed. In, out. The man with the skull mask. In, out. Ruby, falling, screaming. In, out. The Night Owls' blood spattering the walls. "Jo, this is chaos."

"It is not chaos. You just have to look at one thing at a time." Jo reached up and proceeded to climb Dean like a ladder, inching her way around to wrap her legs around his waist and hang on. "Wow. This is pretty surreal."

An idea sparked, and Dean moved Jo's arms to circle his neck. "That's not surreal. _This_ is surreal. Hold on tight!"

He rushed for the window and leapt out, free falling with Jo clinging to him for dear life, screaming. The screams, however, quickly turned to cheers as Dean held her tight and shot a web, snagging it on a building and flying high above traffic, the wind ruffling their hair. 

Jo inched her way up a little higher to rest her chin on Dean's shoulder, eyes closed. "Dean, your face. You gotta be careful."

"Yeah, yeah, I got it." Dean adjusted Jo onto his back and climbed up the side of a building, pushing her away and spreading himself out on the roof. It was nice to just lie in the sun. After a moment Jo crawled over and lay down beside him, using his arm as a pillow.

"Dean, you can't just ignore all of this forever." She said, watching the clouds go by. "One thing at a time, Dean. Where would you like to start?"

Dean hummed softly. He didn't want to think about it. He didn't like to think about it. Looking at a house sparrow building its nest in the air vent was much more interesting, as well as insanely relaxing. "I think," He said slowly, "I want to find that spider and study it."

A small smile spread of Jo's face, and she reached up to pat Dean's cheek. "There you go. We'll start tomorrow."

\---

It was easier to talk to Cas with the mask on. That way he didn't have to deal with the hollow pity in his neighbour's eyes. He wasn't Dean, the screwup struggling to hold his job, with a penchant for losing family members. He was Spider-Man, confident and capable and always there for everyone. Cas admired him when he had the mask on. Treated him like a real, put-together person.

Tomorrow- well, later in the morning, to be precise- Dean and Jo would go to the house to catch the spider. They'd study it, maybe, figure out everything that made it special. Keep it away from anyone else. He couldn't talk about his nerves over this task with Cas. Not as Spider-Man, and not as Dean. It was too easy. Cas was smart, he'd connect the dots. But he did have to talk to him. He'd been going up to talk to him on the roof every few nights, and this time, he needed reassurance. It would be nice, to just talk to Cas, even if he couldn't talk about exactly what was bothering him.

At least, that's what he kept telling himself as he paced around the roof of the building, spinning webs between his fingers and whistling a little tune to himself. He was early, but if the last few visits were anything to go by, Cas should be here in four... three... two...

The door to the roof swung open and Cas came out, two mugs in hand and a blanket slung over his shoulder. "Thought you might be cold. It's meant to rain later." He explained, tossing the blanket to Dean and setting the mugs down on the ledge. "Made hot chocolate, don't know if you like that sort of thing."

Dean accepted the blanket, wrapping it around his shoulders and gathering the web back into his wrists, to be re-used later. "Cas, can I ask you something?"

"Hm?" Cas lowered his mug. He had a chocolate milk moustache.

"When we first met up on this roof, you weren't... Well, you weren't surprised, or awed, or anything. What was that?"

"I..." Cas looked away, running his hand through his hair. "Well, in truth, it felt like I knew you. Like we were already friends, even if we haven't met before. I like you, Spider-Man. It felt like we were meant to meet."

Now it was Dean's turn to look away, afraid, somehow, that Cas would see him blush through the mask.


	19. Sweet Spider Hunt

Like many of Dean's plans, things didn't go quite as he wanted them to. True, he successfully left the house just after midnight without Sam even opening his door, but Jo ran into some complications and eventually had to cave in to Cas's demands. So the three of them left together, Cas asking a thousand questions, Jo and Dean ignoring all of them. They had to focus. 

A long walk, a bus ride, and another walk later Jo had clearly had enough. She stopped the journey and shoved Cas towards Dean so roughly that they collided. "I'm done! Done! Dean, explained to him what we're doing. I'm getting us some snacks. I saw a twenty-four hour store like two streets away."

It took all of Dean's willpower not to scream, right there in the street. Did Jo have any idea of the position she'd just put him in? Cas tipped his head, curious, and just let Dean lead him to a quiet street corner. What would Dean say? He couldn't tell Cas the truth. Cas would figure it out, no, he had to think of something else to say. Think fast, think fast.

"Uh, we, it's."

_Nice job, Dean._

Cas threw up his hands with a tiny laugh. Cute laugh. Dean shook his head to clear it. "Fine." Cas said. "Keep your secrets. As long as it's not illegal."

"Well," Dean said loudly, which made Cas pause.

Jo came out of the store as Cas opened his mouth, presumably to ask whether they were getting involved in criminal activity or not. The answer would have to wait. Jo had bought a entire grocery bag full of things, and she held it up proudly. "Picnic in the haunted house! Also, good news, we're at work right now. As long as we make some progress here, we'll be paid for this."

"Woohoo!" Dean punched the air and Cas, still looking faintly baffled, mimicked. 

They set up their little camp in the foyer of the murder house, lighting little candles in a circle around their area to drive off any ghosts or rats or bad smells that dared to come close. Sadly, it was not enough to drive off the nervous tension, so thick you could cut the air with a knife. Dean edged a little closer to Cas, eyes trained on the stairwell he still had nightmares about falling down. Cas, in return, shifted to rest his cheek on Dean's shoulder.

For a moment they just sat and ate in silence, acclimatising to the dust and cobwebs and chill of the building. By the time Jo stood up and dusted off her sugar stained fingers it was pretty obvious that Cas had fallen asleep on Dean's shoulder. Waking hi up would be as criminal as removing a kitten sleeping on a lap. 

"I'm gonna go find that spider." Jo whispered, picking up her satchel– it contained glass jars, a net, and long handled tweezers. "When Cas wakes up, take him to explore the house. Tell him you're doing a piece on the history or something, I don't care as long as you keep him out of my way until I find this thing."

"Be careful, Jo." Dean said softly. He gave her a two-fingered salute and watched her pick her way up the stairs, a small switchblade in her hand. Fat lot of good that would do her, if the man in the skull mask made a reappearance.

The thought sent a spike of adrenaline through his heart, sharp as a thorn and painful enough to make him gasp. He curled one arm around Cas, seeking comfort from his warmth and steady heartbeat. Cas adjusted his position, one fist resting lazily on Dean's chest. Blue eyes flashed in the dark as he blinked slowly, owlishly, taking a sluggish assessment of the empty space where Jo had been. His brow creased in anxiety.

"She's just gone to explore a little, don't worry." Dean said reassuringly. It felt wrong to talk out loud. Alien. His voice echoed off the roof and he lowered it, helping Cas to his feet. "Did you sleep at all last night?"

"No, I was... stargazing." Cas said, looking guilty. He seemed to have something else on his mind, something that was making the gears click over.

Oh.

He was worried that Dean– that Spider-Man– would be sitting up on the rooftop waiting for him to come up and hang out, probably. Dean hissed in a breath. There was no way he could provide any comfort, not without giving himself away. And right then, standing with his hands in Cas's in a circle of gentle flame, he was tempted.

But no. The secret would have to be kept for a little longer. Groaning, Dean pulled away and stepped over the candles. "Come on. Let's go check this place out, see what we can find."

"Are we looking for anything in particular?"

Dean hesitated, thinking fast. "I want to find the spot where Ruby died. I don't... I don't believe it was an accident."

"You think it was a murder. Like Bobby." Cas glanced around for a moment before taking the stairs two at a time, almost blending in with the shadows. "Makes sense, I suppose."

"Yeah? You think so?" Up to the second floor. This was further than Dean and Jo had gone before, and Dean was starting to feel a little nervous. He shone his torch around carefully, keeping his fingers over the beam to filter the light. If a murderer was going to jump out at them, he wanted to fight under the cover of darkness.

Where was Jo? Had she succeeded? Dean tapped his pocket, letting his fingertips drum against his phone. Surely she'd text him when she caught the spider. Or was there more than one? Best not to touch the banisters, just in case. It was better to keep hands in pockets anyway, waiting for the vibration of a text.

_If_ she could text.

The image of Jo, her mouth open in a startled 'o' as she fell from a window towards the ground, flashed through Dean's mind. He shouldn't've let Ruby go off alone. He shouldn't've let Jo go off alone. If anything happened to her... Dean inhaled shakily.

"Hey, it'll be fine. I'll protect you, don't you worry." Cas took Dean's hand in his own, interlacing their fingers, and Dean startled. His own safety wasn't what he was worried about, but he found himself drawing comfort from Cas's touch all the same.


	20. Angel

It was a little ironic, actually, that Dean had spent the night and half the day wandering a haunted house with Cas, and was now climbing up the outside of the building to spend yet another night with Cas, but in another identity. Dean chuckled drily to himself under his breath as he climbed.

Cas was already waiting on the roof, dangling his legs over the side and resting his chin in his hands. He seemed morose, lost in thought. Enough so that Dean was able to climb up next to him without being noticed. Puzzling. Usually, Cas was on high alert at all times.

"Earth to Cassie." Dean said casually, grabbing onto that back of Cas's dressing gown when he jumped, startled. "Hey, don't fall off now."

"You scared me." Cas accused, but his heart didn't seem to be in it. After gazing at Dean in silence for a moment, he returned to staring off into space with his cheek on his fist. There was something clenched in his fist, a scrap of grainy looking paper. Dean hesitated for a moment, before taking it from his fingers and smoothing it over his knee. Despite having had his paper taken, Cas didn't seem to notice, he just placed his empty hand listlessly in his lap.

It was a newspaper article, the faded headline declaring that _Angel Still Missing_. Below it was a photo of... someone. Something. A pure white bodysuit, much like Dean's own, the head circled with a gold band that dipped between the eyes. Two massive black wings burst from the figures back, and his arms were outstretched as if poised to fall from his perch. Dean cocked his head, tracing the figure's outline.

"What's this?"

"You're not the only superhero I knew." Cas said quietly, tucking his knees up to his chest. "I'm just a feeling a little nostalgic tonight, that's all."

Dean was perplexed. Not about this other superhero. Of course there were other superheroes out there. No, he was just baffled by Cas's mood. He'd assumed that Cas would want to discuss the haunted house, the investigation into Ruby and Bobby's murders. This.... this was something he had not come prepared for.

"This article has to be almost a year old. Why haven't I ever heard of... Angel?"

"Angel wasn't really a huge superhero. I mean, he didn't protect a city or anything, not like you do. I grew up a big suburb, but a poor one, a long way from here. That's where Angel resided, just overseeing thefts and fights and like three murders total." Cas was on a roll, gazing at the photo with wide eyes. "He was a close friend of ours. My family loved him. _I_ loved him. Then, when I was nineteen, he just... disappeared. No note, no goodbye, nothing but a pile of black feathers on the road. Nobody knows what happened to him."

Dean looked down at the photo, at Angel. This man had been Cas's friend. That explained why Cas had been so chill about talking to Spider-Man since the very beginning. "Do you miss him?"

"I..." Cas tucked the article in his pocket with a shaky sigh. "Yeah, I do. I miss... flying." At Dean's silence he added, "Angel used to take me flying, when I was little enough to be carried."

Oh. Now this was something Dean could fix. He stood up and took Cas's hands. "I can take you flying, sort of. Would you like that?"

Cas's eyes brightened, yearning painted across his face. "I would. I really, really would."

Cas seemed delicate, fragile as a flower. It was a quiet moment, a solemn one, as Cas swung himself onto Dean's back and buried his face in his shoulder. Whether this was a gesture of affection or fear, Dean couldn't be sure, but it sent a shiver through him regardless. 

"Hang on tight." Dean whispered, and threw himself from the roof.

This wasn't like swinging through the streets with Jo, in broad daylight and civilian clothing. That had been wild and fun and freeing, a spur of the moment decision full of laughter and screaming.

This was different. The city streets were lit up by cars and windows, casting brilliant artificial light across Dean's path. This time, as he flipped and flew through the air, he wasn't laughing and cheering and joking with Cas. He was giving him back a piece of his childhood, of the friend he'd lost. And in doing so, he shared Cas's regrets and grief and pain, holding onto it. He'd honour Angel's memory. He'd look after Cas.

They swung through the quiet, enjoying each other's silent company until Cas's weight began to drag on Dean. Time was up, for now. 

Dean deposited Cas at the top of an office building, one that rose tall above the city. He crouched on the railing, examining Cas as he lay down on the concrete with a sigh of pleasure, dressing grown spread like wings. "I have missed this. Thank you, Spider-Man." There were tears in his eyes, threatening to spill.

Dean took a breath and stepped forward as Cas got to his feet, knees bent slightly to keep from being blown over by the winds. The tears were pouring freely now, but Dean doubted it was because of the windburn. He pressed Cas against the wall of the roof shed, wiping the tears away with his thumb. Cas blinked slowly, mesmerised, and leaned forward, tracing his hands up Dean's chest, up his neck, before resting against the clasp that held his mask to his suit.

"Shh. It's okay." Cas murmured, in response to Dean's muscles tensing. "Your secret's safe."

It wasn't easy to relax with Cas so close, but he merely raising Dean's mask over his nose before brushing his lips to Dean's, a feather-soft touch that sent a shiver up Dean's spine. _Beautiful,_ a voice in Dean's head whispered. _He's so beautiful._ Dean stroked his fingers up Cas's cheek, pushing his night-dark hair away from his face before pressing his lips to Cas's, a soft kiss that sent them both sinking to the ground.

They were still there when the sun broke the horizon, asleep on the roof of the tallest building in the city, a tangle of limbs and robes and spider silk.


	21. Good Enough For Him

"I haven't seen you in a week, where have you been?" Jo demanded as Dean clambered through her window, panting. "Nice black eye, by the way, where'd you get that?"

"Some dimwit trying to steal a car." Dean grumbled, peeling his suit off and webbing it to the ceiling, out of sight. "Sam just about lost his mind when he saw it. I'm glad. It's about time that kid showed some real emotion for once."

Jo crossed her arms. "So, where've you been?"

"Um."

How could Jo even begin to understand? Every day was spent at work, researching, shopping for himself and Sam. Every night was spent sleeping until midnight, then hanging on the roof with Cas until dawn. He was exhausted. There hadn't even been time in his busy week to come over and check out the spider that Jo had successfully caught. In fact, Dean had just about forgotten about the spider sitting in Jo's makeshift headquarters altogether. Sprawled on the floor, he dragged a hand through his hair sheepishly.

"Pathetic, Dean." Jo said kindly, kicking him lightly in the ribs until he stood. Now come on. I have a scalpel, and I have a microscope. Let's go."

Jo had turned her wardrobe into a minute science lab, with beakers, indicator, microscopes, and a clutter of other instruments Dean couldn't name. In the centre of the table was a glass jar filled with dirt, and a very familiar looking spider that had built a web against the side. It shrink back, raising its front two legs as Dean picked it up to study it. "Well hello there, beautiful."

"I'm trying to think of a humane way to kill it." Jo said doubtfully, peering into the glass. "So far it's withstood everything I've thrown at it, plus it's laid an egg sack in the dirt there somewhere."

Dean put the jar down and stepped back smartly. "Oh! Wonderful! Maybe we don't have to kill it, we can just extract the venom and have a look."

"No, wait, I have something to show you first." Jo picked up the spider with the tweezers, pinching it on the pedicel to keep it from being able to thrash. Then she deftly yanked one of the spider's legs off. 

The spider curled its remaining legs inward, and Dean could have sworn he heard it shriek. "Jo! That's cruel!"

All Jo's attention was trained on the spider. She raised one finger for quiet. "Look. Look."

The spider twitched. It dragged its leg across its mandibles patiently, cleaning each limb as if it didn't have a care in the world.

Slowly, slowly, but still way too fast to be natural, a spindly black leg wormed its way from the stump, growing and inflating until the new leg was indistinguishable from the rest. Beaming, Jo gently placed the spider back in its jar.

Dean's gaze darted to the scalpel on the bench. "You better not be getting any ideas."

"Oh, you bet I am. Come on, tell me you're not curious?"

"My spinneret didn't exactly heal at turbo-speed!"

Jo snorted and waved a hand dismissively. "A spinneret is different to a normal skin wound. Plus, you had to build up all that silk again, and your diet doesn't exactly compensate the amount of proteins needed for that." She paused thoughtfully. "Maybe we should work on that."

"I'd rather have you cut my arm." Dean held out his clenched fist and looked away. "Just make it quick."

The scalpel flashed as Jo shrugged, twirling it in her fingers. "Okay."

Dean's shriek of pain was muffled by Cas throwing open the door so hard the doorknob just about cracked the plaster wall. Deftly, Jo kicked her wardrobe door shut, hid the scalpel, and elbowed Dean sharply until he hid his bloody arm behind his back with a winning, nonchalant smile.

"Guys!" Cas shouted, seemingly oblivious to Jo and Dean's expressions, the chaos in the room, or the faint smear of blood on Dean's shirt. "Guys, I have a boyfriend, I think!"

"Boyfriend?" Dean echoed, alarmed, as heat crawled up his neck.

"Wow, shocker, Cas is gay." Jo set about trying to subtly clean her room. "Glad you had the strength to tell us."

"Homoromantic asexual, if we're getting specific." Cas said snippily. "But that's not the point. I'm... Wait, I don't think I should tell you."

"Oh, come on." Dean said through gritted teeth, discreetly circling webbing over his wound. "You come in here like a man gone mad, you can't just leave us hanging."

Laughing a little like a drunken idiot, Cas wandered over to Jo's bed and tossed himself over it. "Get this. Get this. I'm dating... Spider-Man."

Oh. Spider-Man. Exactly what Dean had been terrified to hear. He forced himself not to cringe under Jo's slack jawed stare and instead allowed surprise to flicker over his face. "Boyfriend? Spider-Man? _The_ Spider-Man?"

Cas only sighed dreamily and hugged Jo's pillow to his chest, gazing up at the ceiling and in some strike of love blindness, not noticing the webbed package in the corner. "Yeah. He's great, guys, you have no idea. I'm not real sure what being a superhero's boyfriend entails, but if movies are to be believed, I want to stay quiet. Unless he doesn't like me back." He cracked open one eye with a sheepish grin. "I haven't talked about anything official to him yet."

"I'm sure he'll be thrilled." Dean was unable to keep the fondness from his voice. 

"I hope so. You guys can't tell anyone, understand? This is a secret."

"Cross our hearts and hope to die." Jo crossed her own heart, then leaned over to cross Dean's after realising he'd be caught red-handed if he tried to do it himself.

Cas beamed, his hands fluttering by his sides. "I knew I could trust you guys. Bye now!"

He left as loudly and abruptly as he'd arrived. The second he was gone Dean sank onto Jo's bed and buried his face in his hands, before swearing and jumping up. No doubt there were red handprints on his face like warpaint. "Sorry Jo, I think there's blood on your sheets. And carpet."

"Doesn't matter. C'mere, let me clean that up for you." As gingerly as she could, Jo led Dean to the bathroom, saying nothing about Cas's declaration except, "Congratulations. Are you going to tell him who you are?"

"How can I?" Dean murmured softly. "I'm not good enough for him on my own. But in that suit, I just might be."


	22. The Truth About Snapshot

"Jump, Ty, I'll catch you if it fails." Ninox shouted. She stood on one of the lower platforms, hands on hips. The rest of the Night Owls were on the ground, all of them looking up at Tyto, who stood on the edge of the highest platform. It was practically windy up there. Tyto glanced down and shivered. The ground suddenly looked very far away.

Anxiously, Tyto glanced at the pack that sit right between his shoulder blades. R&D had released it just yesterday and, theoretically, it was meant to act as an air scoop to give the Owls more flight control. This device was meant to counteract the effects that gravity had on their gliders and turn them into real wings, for real flight. Theoretically. Tyto was to be the first one to test it and, frankly, he wasn't super excited. 

"We've got you, Ty, just jump!" Asio commanded sharply.

Tyto took a shaky breath. He checked the pack again, making sure it was strapped to him securely. Then, before he could second guess himself, he arched his wings and leaped.

The device immediately started sparking, and a screaming Tyto barely managed to throw it as far away from him as possible before it blew up. 

"I gotcha, buddy." Ninox soared to catch him, hurriedly nudging him right why up and clipping his wings to his cuffs as they fell, and at the last moment Tyto snapped open his wings, nose almost touching the ground as he glided across the floor, spinning in a circle before coming to rest. The Night Owls applauded dutifully.

"Needs some work." Strix muttered, glancing at the shredded remains of the air scoop. "I'll bring the report to R&D tomorrow."

The double doors burst open and Bubo swooped in, flapping his wings madly to stay in the air. "Guys! Guys! I've got it! I've got the answer!"

"The answer to what?" The Night Owls gathered around as Bubo settled on the ground, breathing heavily. There was a glint in his eye that Tyto found unnerving. But, Bubo was smiling, so it was probably good news.

"The answer to our little spider infestation. Get this: Spider-Man has a boyfriend. If we take _him_ , we can clear away the cobwebs easy!"

Aegolius whistled lowly under her breath. "Is that so? What's his name?"

"Castiel Novak."

Tyto choked on his breath, but it was covered by Aegolius straightening up and snapping, "Novak? Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. I heard him telling his friends about it, and then did a little research into him. Why? Do you think he saw me? I swear, nobody knew I was next door, the apartment was empty."

Otus gestured wildly in the air, pausing her pacing. "Why were you there in the first place, exactly?"

"I saw this Castiel guy meeting Spider-Man on a rooftop one night. They seemed pretty close, so I've been following him." Bubo raised his chin defiantly. "I won't apologise for not telling you guys. I didn't want to take anyone on what might have been a wild goose chase."

"Why do we even need to take Castiel?" Tyto piped up, trying to keep the tremor from his voice. "Why do we even care about Spider-Man?"

"He's a thorn in our side. One we need to be rid of if we're going to have a normal life again." Strix said, ruffling Tyto's hair just a little too hard to be friendly. "If this is how we do it, so be it."

"Novak." Aegolius whispered again, seeming deep in thought. "Can't be a coincidence. Can't be. Strix, you're in charge. Continue with training and research into Castiel. Ninox, you can go home. Tyto, with me. Now."

The pair left the training room at a brisk pace, one that Tyto found difficult to keep up with. He could almost see smoke coming from Aegolius's ears. "Where are we going?"

"Ninox filled you in on everything that goes on around here in our daily cycle." Aegolius muttered. "But she didn't tell you about this, because she didn't know. Not even Strix knows about it. But you... I see something in you, Tyto. A shred of morality, something nobody around here has."

"Thank you?" Tyto offered. He drew up short to keep from bumping into Aegolius as she stopped walking, facing down a dark steel door. It looked pretty heavy.

"This room is the only room in the base that is safe from the explosion. Anything in here will remain outside of the time loop, untouched. It's one of our greatest resources." Aegolius grunted as she pushed it open, ushering Tyto inside ahead of her.

The door slammed.

Aegolius and Tyto stood in the white room, empty but for one figure, hunched in the corner. The figure contracted in on himself as Aegolius and Tyto approached, and Tyto had to wince. How long had he been in here? And why?

"Hello, Mr Novak." Aegolius said coldly. "It seems your attempts to keep your family safe have failed. Does the name Castiel mean anything to you?"

The figure stirred, lifting his head. Dirty, golden hair fell in messy waves as he moved, hanging in front of his face like nooses from a hanging tree. Haunted eyes fixed on Aegolius, but there was no emotion behind them. No thought process. Shaking like a leaf in a storm, the man forced himself to stand and face his foes.

"Don't..." He croaked, pushing the hair from his face. "Don't hurt Cassie. Please."

"Gabriel." Tyto rasped. Gabriel whipped around to face him. Hurt and shock danced for a moment on his face, before being replaced by something akin to rage.

"You're with _them_." Gabriel squared his shoulders, his voice cracking, a broken man. Electricity sparked in his eyes, and his curled into claws. Blue lightning danced between his fingers as he raised his arms. "You're a _monster!_ "

The lights exploded. Plunged in darkness, Tyto didn't know where to turn. "Gabriel, wait–!"

"Tyto, look out!"

Someone screamed, and the world exploded into blinding, electrical light.


	23. Broken Promises

Sam was still in his room listening to music when Dean clicked the door shut. Good. No use worrying him even more than he probably already was. The black eye was bad enough, but this? Bandages up and down his forearm? Ridiculous.

But, even so... Dean sighed and rapped against Sam's door. "Sammy, you there?"

No response. But where else would he be. Dean chewed his lip a little before resting his hands against the door. "Look, Samy, I know we haven't spoken much since... since Bobby died. I haven't been there for you the way I should've been and I am so, so sorry. I don't know if you can forgive me for abandoning you. I know I wouldn't. We were there for each other when mum and dad died, and I'm so sorry Bobby's loss didn't work the same. I... I didn't want to prioritise you. I wanted to leave everything behind. Including you. And I'm sorry. I love you."

No response. Not even the music changed volume.

Dean sighed and leaned against the wall, dragging a hand down his face. He'd tried. This time he really, actually had. It wasn't his fault that Sam couldn't hear him. He'd tried to apologise, but Sam hadn't heard him. Not Dean's fault.

"God dammit." Muttering darkly under his breath, Dean shoved the door open. "Sam–?"

Sam sprang at the door with a yelp, slamming it in Dean's face. "Get out of my room!"

"What the hell's up with you? Are those _burns?_ "

Snarling, Sam opened the door a crack. "The TV blew a fuse. Is that a _stab wound?_ " He added, in a clear mocking tone. 

Dean's face heated up and he clapped his hand over the bandages on his arm, taking relief in the hot spike of pain. "None of your business."

"Likewise." Sam yanked his door shut again and switched off his music. Probably, he was going to bed, something Dean should do as well. He stretched his arms above his head and yawned glancing at the time. Three hours' sleep, then he could go and talk to Cas. They _really_ needed to sort out what they were to each other.

"Huh." Dean said to himself, crawling into bed. Boyfriend. Was that how Cas felt? Was that how _Dean_ felt? He rubbed the scar on his wrist thoughtfully, fingertips grazing the spinneret beneath. Yeah. Yeah, he wanted to be with Cas. But this.... This needed to be put up on the crime board. Christ, he barely knew anything about Cas, as Spider-Man. He barely knew more as Dean Winchester.

Dean swore and punched his pillow roughly. He'd never had a boyfriend before. Hadn't had a girlfriend either. Would he be a good one? What would be a superhero boyfriend even entail? Dates. No, not dates. Too conspicuous.

Too conspicuous...

The clock had just clicked over onto two thirty in the morning when Dean woke up, his heart pounding in his throat. For a moment he couldn't tell where he was. His wrist and arm were burning, in hot spikes as though someone were lashing him with a whip. Hissing in pain he rubbed the wounds, trying to calm them down. What had woken him again? The pain? No. Something else.

A crash, a sound like shattered glass. Where? A window? A vase? Dean sat up sharply, scrambling to find the light switch. The sound had been muffled. Must've come from Jo and Cas's apartment.

Next door, Jo screamed.

Screw the light switch. Screw the weapons. Dean bolted through the apartment and leaped his way into the hallway, before kicking the door in. Jo and Cas always kept it locked. This was faster than working a lock pick, or knocking.

Every light was on. Dean shrank back, wincing, only to be bowled over by Jo as she tackled him. There was blood on her forehead. "Dean! Dean! Help!"

She was yanked away abruptly, screaming, by a man with brilliant yellow wings and a pair of goggles shoved up on his hairline. He and Dean made eye contact, and it was all Dean could do not to stare. Strix. Alive and well.

"Dammit, Aegolius, another witness! What do we do?"

"Forget him! Get Castiel!"

Get Castiel.

 _Cas_.

Strix hurled Jo into the wall. She hit with a sickening thud and slid to the floor, a damsel in distress in her pyjamas and wavy blond hair. Dean crawled over to her, ignoring Strix as he started ransacking cupboards, and pressed his fingers to Jo's pulse. She was fine. Just stunned.

"Hey! Hey! Get off me! What the–"

Cas. Dean grabbed Strix by the ankle and brought him down, glancing his head off the kitchen counter. Not his main target. 

"Cas! Cas! Where are you?"

Dean burst into Cas's room, taking the fighters by surprise. He grabbed one– Asio?– and dug his fist into her stomach. She gagged and rammed a headbutt into his chest, hard enough to force him back. 

Another Night Owl. Ninox. Dean swung and she ducked, slashing for his throat with a knife.

"Dean!"

Sam? Dean whirled towards Sam's voice, earning a slice to the neck for his split in focus.

Hot fire burned beneath his skin, surprising him. He sank to the floor, one hand pressed against the cut. Blood burbled from between his fingers. It was all he could do to stay alert. Shock. He was in shock. _Snap out of it._

One of the bigger Night Owls had an unconscious Cas slung over his shoulder. "Let's go! Let's go! I've got him!"

One by one they leaped for the window, snapping out their wings and soaring into the night.

"Not on my watch." Dean grabbed Ninox's fallen knife and leaped for the nearest Night Owl. Tyto, it looked like. 

Tyto shrieked and slammed his elbow into Dean's gut, trying to force him back. Furious, Dean flipped the knife and carved an arc with it, opening Tyto from ear to eye.

The howl of agony was unmistakable. A kid. Tyto was just a kid. The knife clattered to the floor and Dean stepped back, stunned, as Tyto clumsily threw himself from the window and flapped away on unsteady wings.

Dean glanced at Cas's bed, unable to process the night.

Cas.

They'd taken Cas.


	24. The Cut On Tyto's Face

Dean tried to be as quiet as he could, laying Jo down on his couch. She moaned softly, turning her head and fluttering her eyes. Chewing his lip, Dean tapped her lightly on the cheek until she came around with a dazed sound.

"Jo, I think you're concussed. Stay awake, okay, I'll fix this." He choked on a sob, forcing back the lump in his throat. "I'll fix this."

"You're bleeding." She reached up to touch his blood-soaked shirt before pushing herself into a sitting position with a groan. "Fix yourself first. I'll be fine. Where's Cas?"

"I'll– I'll find him. I promise." Dean whipped his shirt off and cast it aside. He'd deal with it later. He'd deal with this. He'd fix everything. He was Spider-Man. Superheroes fix things and save people, not hide and lick their wounds while the ones they love are... are...

Jo gazed at him quietly from the couch. "You love him, don't you?"

"Yes. No. Maybe. I don't know!" Dean stormed into the kitchen and started rummaging for the first aid kit. "What do I do, Jo?"

Jo hauled herself up on the kitchen counter, running a cloth under the tap to wipe her cut. She cocked her head. "Y'know, you were never the same after your dad died."

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

"I mean... It was like you shut everyone out. I don't think I've seen you smile since you moved in here. But Cas changed that. He was like a key unlocking the door you bolted shut all those years ago. I've missed this. I've missed _you_."

Dean just stared at her, pressing a damp cloth to his neck. "How long have you been saving that one?"

"Since you met the guy. He can teach you to love again, Dean, but not if you don't save him. Go get dressed. No time to waste."

The sound of a door clicking shut made both of them freeze. Sam stood just outside his door, his expression drawn. Blood matted his hair, stained his shirt, dripped steadily from a cut that split his temple from ear to eye. Slowly, slowly, Dean lowered his rag.

Sam took a shaky breath. "Dean, I–"

"Where did you get that cut, Sam?" Dean interrupted. He dropped the rag and stalked forward, hands curling into fists. "Who did it to you?"

No response from Sam. If possible, he shrank into himself even more.

"Don't do anything stupid, Dean, this is Sam we're talking about–" Jo said warningly.

"Bull!" Dean slammed his fist against the wall hard enough to put a crack in the plaster and Sam flinched. "Answer me! Where did you get that cut?!"

"I did this for you!" Sam exploded. He was trembling, whether in rage or fear or pain, Dean couldn't tell. "What, Bobby died and you abandoned me and then you started coming home every night looking like a regular at fight club? I just wanted to protect you!"

"And now Cas is gone. Good job. Hope you're happy." 

Tears surfaced in Sam's eyes and he pressed a hand over his mouth, before ducking back into his room and slamming the door. 

"Why'd you do that?" Jo demanded. "He just wanted to look after you."

"This isn't some teenage rebellion, Jo, this is real! My brother is literally on the super villain side! I _cut his face open!_ " Dean hands fluttered against his temples as he struggled to breathe. "I'm suiting up. I need to find Cas. I need to save Cas. Hold down the fort here."

"As long as you look after yourself." Jo said anxiously. "Do you know where they've taken him?"

"The explosion house. Or the murder house. One or the other. I'll pull them both apart brick by brick if I have to."

Still swearing to himself, Dean pulled his mask and suit on and left from the kitchen window, slamming his bedroom door to make it seem like he'd left the regular way, just in case Sam was listening. Jo crossed her arms and sat on the couch, her head throbbing painfully.

Once it was clear that Dean had left, Sam crept out of his room dressed in full Night Owl gear, his bandana around his neck and goggles pushed up to his hairline, smearing the blood. He locked eyes with Jo, and she sighed, pressing the heels of her hands against her eyes as if that would make things better.

"Dean's going to kill me." Sam stated, lifting his head defiantly. 

"Only if I don't do it first, you little rat. Besides, I think he's passed word onto a mutual friend of yours and Cas's about all this, so you better watch your step. Spider-Man knows where you live."

"Oh." Sam croaked.

At the terror in his eyes, Jo relented. She stood up and sighed, trailing her fingers across the wall as she made her way to the medicine cabinet. "Come here. Let me get you cleaned up."

\-- 

Dean didn't even make it halfway to the abandoned buildings when he saw Cas, wandering in circles along the dark streets, looking a little dazed. There was every chance that he didn't know where he was, or why. Exhaling in relief, Dean lengthened his web to land, running with the momentum before drawing up short in front of Cas.

"Thank god." He breathed, bundling Cas against him. After a moment, Cas hugged him back. "Thank god. I was so worried. What happened?"

"What did it look like happened?" Cas asked teasingly, pulling away so Dean could cup his face in his hands. With an almost cat-like purr, Cas nuzzled into Dean's palm.

"It looked the rainbow bats kidnapped you."

"Yeah, they did. Well, they tried."

Confused, Dean brushed his thumb across a streak of dust under Cas's eye, and kissed him lightly on the forehead. "What happened? I thought they'd take you back to their base, not leave you in the middle of the street." 

Cas took a breath and pushed Dean at arm's length. "They dropped me. They were flying back to base, and one of them got clumsy and dropped me."

Dropped him? But there was barely a scratch on him... "Dropped you? Are you okay? That's weird."

"Yeah." Cas murmured, scuffing his toe against the ground. "Weird."


	25. Tea

Tyto– Sam– was hyperventilating as he flew. Everything had gone wrong. Everything.

_Spider-Man knows where you live._

He shuddered and kept moving, flapping hard to keep himself above the buildings as best he could before he reached base. Then he ducked his head, tucked his wings in, and angled his body to glide straight through the window, down to where the labs were.

Gabriel's door. Sam hit the brakes, skittering. He hadn't seen Gabriel since the electrocution, during which Aegolius had bustled both herself and Sam from the room, leaving Gabriel as a ball of agonised lightning, curled up and screaming. The memory sent a shudder down Sam's spine, worse than the nausea he'd felt when Dean had appeared to rescue Jo and Cas. Worse, even, than the feeling of unhinged panic as Dean traced the knife down Sam's face, no recognition and plenty of rage in his eyes–

Before he could think better of it, Sam marched into the room.

Gabriel was once again sitting in the corner, wearing a pair of dirty pants and a torn, smoking shirt. He had his legs crossed and seemed to be miming drinking tea. 

Gently, slowly, Sam closed the door behind him. "Hello, Gabriel."

"Ah! Sam-sam." Gabriel replied with a cackle. "Care for some tea? I've sold my soul, so they let me have tea now."

"Not right now. Gabriel, listen, I come in peace. I just want to talk to you."

"Of course you do!" Gabriel straightened up and patted the spot next to him invitingly until Sam sat down, sitting back on his heels uncomfortable. Something in Gabriel had pretty clearly snapped. Maybe he needed a doctor.

It was saddening, in a way, seeing Gabriel like this. He'd always been a constant in the family, coming over to help Dean with work, laughing with Bobby, flirting with Jo, working with Sam on homework and staging mock modelling shoots. The memories were warm, but Sam struggled to connect them to the madman before him.

Lightning crackled at the ends of Gabriel's greasy hair, but it was passive lightning. Friendly electricity. Sam pointed. "How long have you been able to do that?"

"Since the explosion. How old were you? Seven? Eight? I was in high school. I used to take my brothers and sisters into the city on the weekends to have fun and hang out, and we got caught in it..." He frowned suddenly, lost in thought. "Cas. You mentioned him. My brother. You talked about him, you _threatened him._ " The sparks picked up, travelling up and down Gabriel's arms, making Sam's hair stand on end. "Where is he? What have you done?"

Time to leave. Sam stood up, holding his hands up in a gesture of peace. "You go back to your tea. I'll find Cas. I'll get him back."

"I sent him to you! I sent him to you when I had to run! You were supposed to protect him, but you've damned him! You've damned yourself!"

Tears pricked Sam's eyes and he backed towards the door. "I'll find him, I'll get him back, I promise!"

_If he's still alive._

\--

The Night Owls were in the aviary, stewing in an atmosphere of mixed emotions. Strix was lying facedown on the first platform. Asio and Bubo were dancing and laughing. Otis was in a death hang from the scaffolding, shirtless and covered in bandages. Aegolius was sitting on the topmost platform, gazing up through the skylight with empty eyes.

"What's.... what's going on? Where's Castiel?" Sam asked slowly, pausing at the door.

"Dropped him." Strix said, his voice muffled. "He woke up after you took off, beat Otis into mincemeat."

"The guy was way stronger than we thought." Otis shot back. "He ain't a regular civilian. Good riddance."

"You dropped him?! What happened to him?!" Images of Cas, groggy and confused and screaming as he plummeted to earth flashed behind Sam's eyes. What had he done? He'd killed one of his only friends, that's what he'd done. The floor rose to meet him and he lay down, breathing heavily.

"Doesn't matter." Asio said, dipping Ninox with a grin. "The Spider'll be on our tail now."

"Bonus good news." Aegolius stood up and stretched her wings, gliding to the ground. As if she'd given a signal, the rest of the group ceased their activities and gathered in a ring. Ninox helped Sam to his feet with a reassuring smile.

Aegolius nodded to each of them in turn, unable to keep the ear-to-ear smile off her face. "Ladies and gentlemen. They made a breakthrough. By tomorrow, we will be free."

Asio screamed in delight and threw herself at Otis, who caught her and whirled her in the air, laughing giddily. Strix all but collapsed, a dazed grin on his face and tears in his eyes. It seemed like Aegolius was about to say more, but she was interrupted by Bubo grabbing her and kissing her deeply. After a moment, she leaned into it.

"Free? From the time loop?" Sam said blankly, eyes wide. Ninox ruffled his hair with a mad cackle.

"Yeah! The device is finished! Tomorrow we're gonna reverse the explosion that trapped everyone here in the first place!"

"That's... that's wonderful!" Sam brushed the hair from his eyes, skimming the stitches at his temple. "How are they doing it?"

"I forget you like your technologies, Owlet." Aegolius said pressing a kiss to Sam's forehead. "We will create another explosion, the same as the first one. Bigger, perhaps. This time, we have a power source that will be consciously working towards our salvation."

Realisation dawned on Sam, so dark and heavy that he had to sit on the first platform and wait for the world to stop spinning.

Another explosion? A bigger explosion? That would destroy the street. It might even take out the city. Hell, he couldn't understand how anyone in here would survive it anyway.

Power source. A conscious power source? The gears turned in Sam's mind, frantic as his teammates celebrated. A conscious power source.

Power.

Electricity.

_I've sold my soul, so they let me have tea now._

"Oh no." Sam sprang to his feet and blew out the door, ignoring Ninox's confused shouts of "Tyto? Tyto!"

Maybe he couldn't stop the explosion that would save the people in the time loop. But he could sure as hell save the city.

Sam had a plan.


	26. Heaven Sent

The Night Owls wouldn't get away with this. Dean didn't know what they were doing, or why, but they'd gone too far. The second he'd settled Cas at home with Jo, he'd taken off again, swinging his way to the abandoned buildings where he was sure the Night Owls had set up their base. Conspiracy board be damned, the reasons didn't matter anymore.

They'd touched Cas.

They would pay.

Nobody saw Dean slip into the building, crawling along the wall to stay silent. Nobody saw him make a beeline for the laundry door. It stood to reason, of course, that the door with the least rust on the hinges was the one used most often. But how to get into the base...?

Dean dropped from the ceiling and paced the small perimeter, picking up bottles of long-solidified detergent and kicking over piles of filthy towels, before a key dropped out of the slats between the ironing board. Cool. Easy. Dean held it gingerly for a moment before opening the linen cupboard and stepping into the dark. _So easy._

The base was... oddly quiet. Cool, and interesting, but quiet. Dean adjusted his mask warily, crawling up to the high ceilings. This place was huge. Far bigger than anything he'd ever imagined could be under his city.

No way was it just the Night Owls and a handful of skull-masked murderers who worked here.

"Come on, Dean. You can do it." He whispered to himself. No more of this. Here, now, Dean was going to end this little game once and for all. For Ruby, dead only for overhearing something she should not have. For Bobby, dead for trying to save Dean and Jo. For Sam. Oh man, for Sam. He'd had to grow up too fast, doing what he felt he had to protect his brother.

"I'm so sorry, Sammy. I should've involved you from the start." Dean crawled across the ceiling, checking out the technology and training spaces below him as he moved through corridors and separate rooms, ducking through open doors. What he was looking for, he wasn't sure. Anyone. Why was this place so empty? Perhaps everyone in the base had spontaneously combusted as the Night Owls had. Maybe it was like a daily ritual for them.

The thought made Dean chuckle drily, but a clattering sound had him sitting bolt upright, fists raised as he whirled towards the sound.

Standing on the floor and staring up at him, lips parted in shock and arms full of steel rods, was Sam.

\---

Christ. He was going to die.

Sam stared up at Spider-Man, trembling as he picked up the rod he'd dropped. Spider-Man just crouched on the ceiling, a blur of red and black through Sam's tears. He didn't want to die. Not yet. He hadn't finished saving the city yet.

Spider-Man cocked his head and inched forward threateningly. Yelping, Sam pointed a rod at him as though it were a knife. "Don't hurt me!"

"Why shouldn't I?" Spider-Man said coldly, lowering himself from the ceiling by a web so he hung, suspended, upside down in front of Sam's face. "You hurt Castiel, Sam Winchester. You dared to hurt him. Why shouldn't I make you pay?"

Oh my god. Spider-Man knew his full name. Should he call for help? Should he fight? What could he do? There was no way he could survive this. Then again... Sam snuck a glance at a clock on the wall. None of them would survive the next two hours anyway, not if he didn't do something.

"What's it going to be, Sam Winchester?" Spider-Man hissed.

Sam thought for a moment, shaking with fright. It was an easy choice of course. There was no way out of here. No way he could survive. But he'd be damned if he didn't do what he could to save everyone else.

"Sorry, would love to chat, Aviary's down the hall to your left, bye!" Sam turned and ran, clutching the rods to his hammering heart.

Thankfully, Spider-Man did not follow.

The second he realised Spider-Man wasn't coming, had no intention of following, no interest in Sam's activities, Sam skidded to a halt and clutched the rods to his chest, panting. He had one shot at this. One shot to save the city, and maybe bargain a ticket to heaven along the way.

But if he failed, if hell was truly his final destination, then so be it.

\---

Aviary on the left. _Thanks, Sammy._

Dean kept as flat to the ceiling as he could, crawling in through the door and up the wall, hiding himself in the shadows. Those in the aviary seemed agitated, enough so that they didn't even notice Dean making his way across the ceiling, exploring the strange little scaffolding system they'd set up. Everywhere, set into the roof beams, were strange metal sticks, tucked out of sight. Dean couldn't figure out the reason for these, so he kept moving.

Skylight. His shadow across the glass would be obvious. Had to go around. Maybe down to the scaffolding. If he could dismantle that, maybe it would disadvantage the Night Owls in some way–

Something smacked him hard, and before he could take a breath Dean was falling, tumbling through the air while the Night Owl who'd hit him flapped in circles, taunting and goading him. Dean blinked slowly and struck, slapping the Night Owl across the face and affixing a web to the scaffolding, swinging so low he had to run across the ground to keep from tripping over his own momentum. Better than being a pancake.

" _How_ did the spider get in here without any of you noticing?" One of the Night Owls screeched. "Move out! Get rid of him! We can't let him mss us up, not now, not when we're so close!"

The rest of the group just seemed stunned. Two exchanged a glance. Then the yellow-winged Owl– what was his name again?– stepped forward.

"What are you waiting for?" He boomed. "Kill the spider!"


	27. With Regrets

"Sorry, men, women, and in between, I have to be elsewhere." Dean tugged on his web and zipped up and backwards, kicking each member of the Night Owls in the face for good measure. One of them ducked the blow and leaped, grabbing him by the ankle and yanking him back to the ground so fast his web snapped and his head ricocheted off the floor. With a sharp word of command two of them grabbed Dean's arms, forcing him to his knees.

"Oops." Bubo said with a grin, leaning over Dean with his hands on his hips. "Guess you're not going anywhere."

"Maybe we shouldn't kill him." Strix mused. "Perhaps we should just chain him up, let him watch the fireworks."

"Don't be stupid, he won't survive." Asio protested.

Fireworks? Now, _that_ was interesting. Dean rolled his shoulders, keeping his chin hanging against his chest. With luck, they'd believe he'd ben knocked unconscious by the impact.

"We're gonna kill him anyway. Why not let him know what he's been trying to stop?" A new voice said. Sam's voice. Dean swore under his breath. Of all the people to advocate for his death, did it have to be Sam?

There was a soft murmur as the team discussed the better option, and pretty soon Dean was being carried to the top of the scaffold, a pair of handcuffs slapped over one wrist, keeping him chained to a metal bar. Why they were just carrying handcuffs around, Dean didn't even want to know. As discreetly as he could, he tugged on the handcuff, feeling it pull against the bar. Maybe playing dead hadn't been the greatest idea after all. 

Aegolius crouched in front of Dean and tilted his chin up with one finger. Dean blinked slowly beneath his mask, taking in her features. Long hair, streaked in grey. Lined, kind eyes. Kind eyes crinkled in mocking fury. A smile flickered across Aegolius's features, and her hand trailed across to the back of Dean's neck. Trailed across the rest on the clasp.

Dean jerked away, lashing out a slap that Aegolius barely managed to dodge. Snarling, he scrambled to his feet and raised his free fist in preparation for a fight.

But it was not a fight to be had.

"Strix, Otis, hold the little fighter down." Aegolius snapped. The Owls did as they were told, restraining Dean as though his struggles were nonexistent, tilting his head so that when Aegolius finally loosened the mask, he was forced to face the Night Owls, vulnerable and open as a kitten cornered.

The other Night Owls simply looked fascinated. There was laughter in Bubo's eyes, the only person in the room who could share the irony of Dean's friendship with Cas and Spider-Man's simultaneous love for him. Asio tipped her head.

"He's a lot younger than I thought he'd be." She murmured softly, reaching out as if to stroke Dean's cheek. Dean curled his lips back in an animalistic snarl and she retreated with a grin.

Then movement caught Dean's eye, and his attention snagged on Sam.

Sam took a step back. Then another. His face.... Anger, distress, agony, understanding, despair, all chasing each other in circles through his eyes. "No." He croaked. "No. No. No."

"Tyto, what's the matter?" Ninox leaned towards him, but he ducked her touch.

"Sam, listen to me. I'm so sorry. Okay? I'm so, so sorry." Dean tried to stand, tried to pull away from that stupid handcuff, but Sam wasn't looking at him anymore. He was looking at the skylight, fingers brushing the stitches across his temple. Stitches holding the cut that Dean had put there, on his little brother's face.

Sam spread his wings, tears spilling over his eyelids, and let himself fall from the scaffold.

"Sammy!" Dean lunged after him, but the chain yanked him back, sending a jolt of pain through his arm. He could see Sam fly, effortless and beautiful, out the door and out of sight.

The Night Owls simply stared, bewildered. Then, finally, Otis started laughing. "Oh my god! Oh my god! This is him! This is Tyto's brother! Tyto joined us to protect his brother from himself!"

"Well isn't that ironic." Strix said with a wry smile. "Aegolius, should we tell Tyto Senior here what's going to happen in... twenty minutes?"

"I believe so." Aegolius murmured softly. She sat cross-legged in front of Dean, just out of his reach. "I'm sure you know what happened here, roughly ten years ago?"

"An explosion." Dean responded through gritted teeth. "Wiped out half the city and everything underground."

"That's right."

"The result was a time loop." Strix picked up the tale. "We– all of us but Tyto and Ninox– have been trapped here since then. Every day the explosion happens, blowing us and our base apart. And every day, we begin anew. Are you with me so far?"

When Dean didn't answer, Asio slapped him. Hard. Dean flicked his tongue between his teeth, tasting the copper tang of blood. "I'm with you."

"Good." Aegolius smoothed Dean's mask over her lap, examining it. She looked impressed. "We've been working for years to find a way to break the loop. But our real breakthrough came when Tyto– Sam– started messing around in our research and development department. It's thanks to him that we can finally be free." 

"Oh yeah?" Dean croaked. "And how do you plan on doing that?"

"Oh that's easy. We're going to replicate the explosion to reverse the time loop, schedule it just after the regular one to have a higher chance of immediately reversing the effects."

The breath caught in Dean's throat. He phillies against his restraint, furious as the Night Owls turned away from him. "You can't do that! An explosion of that scale would destroy the city! People would die!"

"I don't care." Aegolius snarled. "I have a family in Florida. I don't care how many people have to die for me to see them again. Night Owls, let's go."

One by one the Night Owls leaped from the scaffolding and soared out of sight, leaving Dean alone on the platform.


	28. Electrifying

The scream built in Sam, an overwhelming pressure that burst out of him in the corridors, reducing him to a sobbing mess on the floor, fingers dug into his scalp.

This was a disaster. An absolute disaster. Everything had gone wrong. 

Dean was Spider-Man.

Nothing would ever be okay again.

"Tyto?" Ninox. She'd followed him out here. Maybe.... maybe that was a good thing. Maybe he could convince her to get out while she still could.

Ninox yanked Sam to his feet and shook him. "No time for moping. We have to fix this, now."

"I don't deserve to live."

"Well I do! And so does your brother! Now are you going to help him, or are you going to die on your knees?"

Help him. Help Dean. Yes, that was the most important thing. But how? There was no way he could free Dean, much less sneak him out of the base without a fight. And they only had... Fifteen minutes. Great.

"Gabriel." Sam said suddenly.

Ninox just looked baffled. "Who?"

"Gabriel. My friend. The power source behind this whole stupid plan." Sam started pacing, brushing tears away with his sleeve. "If we can stop him somehow, we can buy ourselves time."

"You mean Snapshot? Good plan, good plan." Ninox mused. "Well, Tyto, I trust you."

With a wry smile Sam held out his hand. "Call me Sam."

Ninox hesitated, before a matching grin broke out across her face. She took Sam's hand and shook it. "Charlie. Pleasure to meet you. Now let's go!"

More tears traced tracks down Sam's cheeks as Charlie laced her fingers with his, and then they were running, down the halls with time breathing down their necks like the grim reaper himself.

Dean tugged on his handcuff absently, taking stock of the Avairy. The scaffold he was chained to the top of was just one of three towers of metal and wood, all spread evenly across the room. Directly above him was a skylight, covered in a light spray of dead leaves. That would be his escape route, if he could get these stupid cuffs off.

Snarling, he took the chain in his teeth and shook it like a dog, more out of anger than anything else. Maybe he'd have to cut his wrist off, like that guy in the movie. Was that even possible to do in fifteen minutes?

"Why so sad, Spider-Man?" Aegolius climbed up on the platform, a sparkle in her eye. "We're about to be freed."

"What makes you think you'll even survive this?" Dean snapped.

"That's the beauty of it, see. We've engineered it exactly to blow outward rather than inward like the first time. It's all very technical, but with the excess energy being forced out into the city, we'll survive. Not you or your brother, or Ninox or Snapshot or the other recruits I'm afraid, but the major people will make it."

Not Sam. Not Dean. What would happen? An image of Cas sitting on the roof, waiting for a superhero to rise from the ashes, flickered through Dean's mind.

"Why?" He rasped. "Ruby. Bobby. Why kill them?"

Aegolius exhaled sharply and leaned against the railing. "Ruby... lovely girl, but a journalist who saw too much. We tried to make it look like an accident, we really did, but then you and that little blonde friend of yours wouldn't go quietly. Messed up the whole plan."

"And Bobby?"

"Bobby. Ah." Awgoliys rubbed the back of her head idly. "We didn't want to hurt him. It was you and your friend we were after, not him. At least this little reveal makes it obvious how you survived all the attacks."

Dean laughed drily. "Your little bird squad isn't much a match."

"Oh!" Aegolius glanced down at the Night Owls, who seemed to be trying to arrange themselves on the lower platforms. "No, not them. We sent dozens of assassins after you, from the Skull Team. None of them ever came back. Tell me, how did you fight them? They were the best we had here."

Dozens of assassins? Dean barely managed to stay quiet. _What is she's talking about?_

He's figure it out later. Right now, he just had to find a way out of this mess.

Sam and Charlie skidded to a halt in front of Gabriel's cell. The door was wide open, full of scientists dressed in hazmat suits and holding various tools. As Sam watched, horrified, they strung Gabriel to the wall by his wrists, attaching jumper cables to each finger. Charlie whistled lowly under her breath, wide eyed.

"What do we do?"

"Shut the door. That cell is the only place in this base that isn't affected by the time loop. If we shut it, Gabriel can't charge the blast."

Charlie nodded slowly. "You seem to be running on the basis that it's the metal that stops the loop, not the area itself."

Sam gritted his teeth, thinking of the rods he'd placed in every room. "I hope it's the metal, now come on."

They started forward and Gabriel howled, muscles tensing. He opened his eyes, and they shone a brilliant, electric blue, sending lightning sparking all over his body.

It was time.

"Gabriel!" Sam shouted. "Hold on!"

"Sam!" Gabriel wailed in response.

Charlie grabbed Sam by the wrist and started running. "We're too late, we have to get out of here!"

"The the Avairy, I need to save Dean." Sam tried his best to banish all thoughts of Gabriel from his mind. There was nothing they could do for him now.

The cheering began, all around them, as the clock struck four.

Then the cheering turned to screams as the world lit up in a burning, fiery white.


	29. Icarus

One second there was nothing but Aegolius, the chattering of the Night Owls, and the cold metal against Dean's wrist.

The next second the room was filled with fire and screaming, and Dean lay twisted on his side, ears ringing from the blast.

Blast one. The regular, daily explosion that restarted the time loop. Smoke filled the room, gathering up against the ceiling and scraping against Dean's throat, burning it raw. Far below he could hear the Night Owls screaming, a horrible panicked whine that rose even above the roar of the flames.

No time to waste. The second explosion would be coming any minute.

Dean pushed himself to his feet, coughing madly. The skylight. If he could break that spot stained glass, he could get out. He could survive this.

The bar had come loose in the explosion. Dean started kicking at it, slamming his boot against the join, again and again as it shuddered.

"Dean!" A voice shrieked. "Dean, help!"

The scaffold over was burning. Flames had climbed it, licking the top platform hungrily, turning the metal white hot in their wake. Sam and Ninox were perched on top of it, terror painted on their faces. Ninox held Sam protectively against her, but it was clear that neither of them knew where to go.

"Jump!" Dean pulled against the handcuff, reaching out. "Jump! Please! You can do it, I know you can!"

Sam and Ninox exchanged a look of terror, before running for the edge of the platform. It groaned and sagged under them, sending up sparks, but then they were airborne, wings spread wide as they crossed above the flames.

They were going to make it. They were going to—

The world around blew up with a roar, flames spilling through the open door and arcing above the scaffolds, burning everything in its wake, so fast that all Dean could do was throw himself to the ground, eyes shut tight against the heat.

He's failed. They were all going to die, down here, unable to even watch the city burn.

A horrible crackling noise raced through Dean's ears and the flames washed against the ceiling and the walls like a tide, forced back by something... As the tide receeded, washing back over the room, Dean could see rods of metal wedged into the framework, lit up a brilliant blue.

Sam. Brilliant, beautiful little Sam with his arms full of metal poles. He'd saved the city. But he's doomed them all.

Ninox slammed onto the platform with a shriek, kicking off her singed wings, crawling backwards as fast as she could. Blinded by the smoke and the light of the flames, Dean couldn't even find Sam until he screamed.

There he was. Sam, brilliant, beautiful, flapping hard towards the platform with wings on fire, spiralling as the gravity tried to hold him and carried him towards the flames. "Dean!"

"Sammy!" Dean lunged forward and shot a web, a single lifeline that flew off the edge of the platform, seeking a single form, a burning, crying boy.

The line went taut.

The screaming stopped.

"Sam!" It was difficult to reel in the line one handed but Dean managed it, dragging Sam's motionless form across the burning platform and onto his lap. "Sam? San, talk to me."

Nothing. Sam's lips were parted, his eyes closed. Dean tore away the smouldering wings and tossed them, cradling Sam's body against his own.

"No. No. No, please. Sammy, I'm so sorry. This is all my fault, I'm so sorry."

The skylight above them burst, sending a shards of broken glass raining down on Dean. He couldn't care less. He barely even felt the glass tear at his shoulders, his back, his forehead. Blood mixed with the tears that spattered on Sam's body.

Jo landed hard on the creaking, teetering platform, wearing the black clothes Dean had worn pre-costume. In her hand and disapearing into the skylight was a twined rope of silk, similar to Dean's own, but golden in the light. Beautiful, golden spider silk wrapped around Jo's hand. Dean choked on his sob.

"Come on!" Jo shouted. "I'll explain later, we have to get out of here! Now!" 

With Sam held against his chest, Dean resumed kicking at the bar that held him down, slamming it again and again until it burst free, almost sending Dean over the edge. Jo, wild-eyed, was already carrying an unconscious Ninox out into the dying sunlight. Dean planted a kiss into Sam's hair and followed, the bar sliding out of the handcuff and clattering to the platform below, enabling the whole structure to collapse into the flames.

The group kept moving, away from the hole in the ground and the smoke rising from it, the only evidence that a tragedy had happened. The city streets were quiet, peaceful, untainted by the acrid smell of smoke and the sound of horrified screams. 

They managed to make it to the building two doors down before Dean's legs gave out on him, forcing him to his knees. He lay Sam on the concrete and started pumping his hands against his chest roughly, snarling as he went. Ninox lay beside him, unmoving, but the faint rise and fall of her chest was evident.

Sam was the priority.

"Get those uniforms off, I'm calling an ambulance." Jo had her phone out and was already dialling, leaving Dean to strip himself as well as the former Night Owls of anything recognisable. No wings, no goggles, no bandana. 

Chest compressions. _One, two, three. One, two three._

"I'm not letting you die on me, jerk." Dean growled. "Not until you let me beg forgiveness."

_One, two, three. One two three._

"Not until you know you saved this whole stupid city."

_One, two, three. One, two, three._

"Not until you know I love you."

"I love you too."

Quiet. Rasping. But definitely there. Sam moved, his eyes fluttering lightly and Dean gave a quiet sob, pulling his little brother against his chest. It took a moment, a gasping moment, for San to put his arms weakly around Dean and begin to cry.

Maybe things would never be the same again. But here, holding his brother as he cried, Dean could believe that, one day, things could be okay.


	30. Chicken Wings

Three in the morning, two days after the incident. While everything looked fine on the surface, the world beneath was a smoking pile of rubble and bones, stinking of fire and death. 

Three in the morning, two days after the incident. The second Angel had heard the news, the second he'd learned how the explosion was sparked, he'd reached for his dusty, unused domino mask and slipped it on. It was Gabriel who had bought this for him, merely a day before his fall from grace. Angel has never had a chance to wear it. He'd never wanted to put a mask on ever again.

Until now. Three in the morning, two days after the incident. Angel flew through this sky, more graceful and silent than the Night Owls could have ever hoped to be. It was a loss, those Night Owls. Nobody should have died that day. But everyone in that building had burned.

Almost everyone.

Angel brushed through the police tape as he tucked in his wings and flew through the shattered skylight in the ground, touching down on the twisted metal and wood as he examined the cavern around him. It was... beautiful, in a way. The destruction was so pure, so complete. Angel found himself wishing he had a camera– but that wasn't what he was here for.

"Gabriel!" He cupped his hands over his mouth, stalking through the haunted corridors and skeletal rooms with his wing tops dragging the floor. "Gabriel, where are you?! Gabriel!"

Angel's voice echoed off the walls, throwing his cries back against him like a mocking slap. If his informant was correct, then Gabriel was down here somewhere. Or his body, at least. Angel's wings fluttered nervously at the idea.

"Gabriel! Gabriel!" In one room. Into another. Faster now, faster, heeled boots clacking on the dusty floor, leaving clean markings in the soot. "Gabriel, answer me!"

"Here." A quiet, croaking call, but nearby and strong. Angel started wading through the rubble towards the voice, towards Gabriel lying spread eagle across the floor, covered in a dusting of debris. Clearly, he hadn't moved since he'd fallen here two days ago.

Angel clucked his tongue lightly and brushed his hands across Gabriel's body, checking for breaks. Gabriel simply gave him a lazy smile.

"Took you long enough, Chicken Wings."

"Shut it, Sparky. Do you have any idea how hard it was to find these clothes? I have been shopping for two solid days."

Gabriel blinked, allowing Angel to sling him over his shoulder. "I've been rotting down here, and you've been clothes shopping. Typical. How'd you even know I was down here?"

Angel grinned, carrying Gabriel back through the corridors, stepping lightly over rubble and bodies covered by sheets. "A little birdie told me. No way am I telling you the name of my informant."

"Pity." Gabriel murmured. "If you've been clothes shopping for a new uniform... are you planning to get back in the business?"

Angel paused. The absence of his footsteps on the floor rang into the base, the silence like a pillow over his ears. "I'm not sure. Maybe. It's been a long time."

"Two years is not a long time." Gabriel scoffed, before nuzzling his face against the feathers of Angel's wing. "I've missed this. I've missed this so much."

Moonlight spilled in from the hole in the ceiling, and Angel swung Gabriel into a bridal carry. "I'm going to take you home. Okay?"

"Okay." Gabriel murmured. "Chicken?"

"Yeah?"

"When you re-establish yourself.... play nice with Spider-Man."

A smile flickered across Angel's face, and his eyes warmed. "Of course. Cross my heart and hope to die. Now, you go to sleep. When you wake, this will all be as distant as a dream."


	31. Author's Note

Indeed, this is not over yet. A sequel is on the way; because even though there are not many of you reading this story, I'm writing it for myself for fun and I am not done with this AU.

Though I have one comment to make.

We're all on this website for exactly one reason, and I'm assuming most of us write on here. If you do, you know how important comments are to an author. They give a boost of confidence, a flood of motivation, a warm knowledge that people do actually like the work you've written. All things the kudos button cannot do.

This work has had zero comments. It is thirty chapters long and while I'll admit it's not the greatest thing I've ever written, I should think it's decent enough for at least one person to drop a line. There have been times, many times, where I have simply given up on this story. Why write publicly if nobody likes it?

So I'll write the sequel, though I know that this note will cause a few people to turn from me and my 'attention-seeking' in disgust. I'll write it, and I hope we can all be a bit better when I do.


End file.
